


Febuwhump 2021

by pxrkxrhollands



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Dehumanization, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, FebuWhump2021, Flash Thompson Being A Jerk, Fluff and Angst, Gay Harley Keener, Heavy Angst, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kidnapping, Medical Inaccuracies, Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Not Canon Compliant, Pain, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Natasha Romanov, Recovery, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Torture, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:07:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 28
Words: 86,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29137563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pxrkxrhollands/pseuds/pxrkxrhollands
Summary: ---and even when it's too dark to see, I'll know you're still here with me.---Here it is, folks! Your collection of whumps including but not limited to Peter Parker, Stony, and superfamily angst/hurt/fluff! I wrote these prompts with my friend, so some of the chapters are mine some are hers. Lots of pain in here, but lots of comfort, too. Enjoy!
Relationships: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, Harley Keener/Peter Parker, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Pepper Potts & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 39
Kudos: 105





	1. i'm never gonna escape this, am i?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t you think I know that? I would give anything to have never showed up today but--”
> 
> “But what? What is so important that you are tearing me away from my happiness?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to pxrkxrholland's Febuwhump 2021!
> 
> Day 1(alternate prompt used): Time Travel
> 
> written by M :)

“Honey?”

“Yes doll?” I look up from doing the dishes, Peggy in the room over.

“There’s someone here for you.”

I rinsed my hands.

_ Who would come for me? _

I had only shortly been back in the 1900’s and as far as I knew, Peggy was the only one aware of my existence.

Yet, I walked to Peggy, tense and ready for whoever, or  _ whatever _ , came through that door.

“Good to see you, Cap.”

I stare in complete shock as Sam walks through the door frame. He looked the same as he did when I left, a little worn, but healthy and fit. Peggy looks between us, lifting an eyebrow in my direction. 

I take her hand, giving it a feather light kiss, “I’ll explain later.”

She nods and whispers, “You better.” 

She gives us one last look and walks steadily to the kitchen. I have a hunch that she’s preparing to give an ass whooping at the slightest sound of distress. 

“You better have a good as hell excuse for why you’re here.”

“Hey, language.”

I shake my head, “This is not a joke.”

Sam nods, his face becoming somber, “I know, look man, it’s been a lot longer than you realize. Some… events have happened.”

“Events? How did you even get here?”

“Given the circumstances, we had to dig up Stark’s research and we were able to scrape together enough serum to… bring you back.”

I can feel my heart rate intensify, “We? Bring me back? What is going on?”

Sam looks around, clearly on edge, “We can’t talk about this here. I can explain everything when we get back.”

“No, no, no, this was supposed to be it for me. The hero life, I was -- am -- ready to give that up. You can’t come here and drag me back without a single consideration of what I have sacrificed to get this.”

“Don’t you think I know that? I would give anything to have never showed up today but--”

“But what? What is so important that you are tearing me away from my happiness?”

“Bucky.”

And just like that, everything stilled. My breath coming to a halt, my whirlwind of thoughts fluttering to a stop. 

“Bucky?”

Sam nods, shoving his hands in his pockets, “I still can’t tell you, we don’t know how it will mess with the timeline. I’ve already said too much.”

It felt like I couldn’t get enough air in my lungs, “When do we leave?”

“Now.”

I look down, “God Sam.”

A few moments pass in silence.

“I’m never going to escape this, am I?”

He gives me a wry smile, “No, I don’t think so.”

I rub my brow, “What do I tell Peggy?”

He sighs, “Tell her the truth.”

“I don’t even know what the truth is.”

“Then tell her the reality.”

I can feel my stomach dropping, I gave her hope, the promise of a new life, now I have to take it all back.

Sam pats my back, “I really am sorry.” 

He glances to where Peggy disappeared to, “I’ll wait outside.”

Once the door closes behind him, I hear her come back into the room.

“Ready to explain?” Concern lines her face, making my gut wrench that much more.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, “but I have to go.”

I tell her that the Avengers needed me, that I needed to go back. As I go on, her frown grows deeper.

“Will you come back?”

“I don’t know.”

She cups my face in her hands, “Just promise me, promise that you’ll stay the same… even if you can’t return.”

She lays her palm on my chest, right above my heart, “Please.”

I take her hand from my face and give it a sweet kiss, “I promise.”

A sad smile crosses her face, “So a dance, tomorrow, at the Stork Club.”

“You got it.”

I give her one last kiss, soft and tender but making it worth every last second. Leaning my forehead against hers, I let out a long breath. She pulls away first, knowing that I don’t have the courage to, not again. I hold onto her fingers until she's out of reach, walking out of sight. Closing my eyes, I harden my resolve, not allowing myself to feel any of it, not quite yet.

_ Click _ .

“Let’s go.”

…

My stomach was still turning by the time we made it to the present, 5 years after I had left. We landed in the middle of Tony’s old cabin, it looked deserted, a thin layer of dust coated most of the surfaces. However, several trails of footprints disrupted the dirt on the ground. 

“Hmm, they must’ve gone outside.”

“Sam, can you please stop being so vague. Who is 'they'? What am I doing here? What happened to Bucky?”

He waves his hand, “Just follow me.”

He leads me out of the building to the patio where…

“Ah there he is.”

“Welcome back.”

“You haven’t aged a day.”

Bruce, Clint, Scott, and Pepper come to greet me. Their smiles are strained but the hope in them is not faked. Grey starts to peek out of their hair and maybe it’s just me but they don’t look as tall as I remember. I give out hugs but my head spins.

“I’m glad to see you all but what is going on?”

Pepper gives Sam a pointed look, “You didn’t tell him anything?”

Sam raises his hands in defense, “That's what  _ you  _ told me to do.”

She rolls her eyes and looks back to me, “I’m sorry we brought you here like this, but it was needed. The timeline is fragile and I’m surprised we haven’t completely screwed up the universe yet. Anyways, we brought you here because, well, Bucky’s been kidnaped and resources say he’s a big part of Hydra’s scheme. We don’t know what that means they’ve done to him but we know one thing, we’ve gotten one anonymous message, and that was to bring you.”

Silence falls heavily around me, waiting for my reaction, for me to put my game face on and break out a plan, for me to do  _ anything _ .

_ Well, who was I kidding? this will follow me wherever I go. _

“Okay, first, how did they get Bucky in the first place? Second, Hydra’s back? Third, why do they want me?”

A collective sigh of relief washes over the room, like everyone had held their breath and prepared for the worse.

“Bucky and I were on a solo mission and he started acting weird, weirder than usual I mean, and he just snuck away from me. Not long after I could hear a fight going on but by the time I got there, nothing, just a note in the middle of a busy intersection and lots of frightened people.” Sam explains.

“If there were a lot of people, couldn’t someone identify who took him?”

“See that's the thing, there was so much chaos that anyone from the scene couldn’t get a clear view but some claim they saw someone fly away with a limp figure.”

I gulp, “And how do we know this is Hydra?”

They all exchange looks, making me feel further uneasy. 

Bruce speaks up, “Well, about two years ago they sent out a broadcast worldwide that they planned to strike, claiming Hydra’s name.”

_ Two years? _

“And did they? Attack?”

“No, but we’ve stopped them on several occasions, they were going to send out this massive virus but we tracked them, or a part of them, down and destroyed the lab. Another time there was going to be a bombing but we managed to wipe that out too.”

Sam cuts in. “All these 'attacks', though, have not been nearly the amount of force or ambition from the original Hydra but we know there’s more happening. After finding the lab we found coded messages, millions of them, coming from all around the world.”

“As far as why they want you, we have no idea. Somehow they know you’re tied to Bucky, maybe they’re trying to make you break him in some way. We don’t know but we won’t let that happen, we have a plan.” Pepper addresses. 

“With this little group.” I laugh dryly.

“Oh, it’s not just us.”

…

[Several weeks of planning and catching up later]

_ “How’s the suit, Cap?” _

“This was an old design by Tony?”

_ “Yep.” _

“That explains my ass.”

Sam chuckles through comms.

To be fair, the suit was perfect. It felt like a second skin, somehow Tony engineered tiny gears and springs to add even more boost to my muscles and joints. And it made my ass definitely pop.

After they brought me back we went right into the planning for this mission. We knew where Hydra wanted to take me but had no idea when. We tried to take whatever time we could to prepare but the government was breathing down our necks and knew nothing of my return, doubling the pressure for this to be a success. 

It was the middle of the night and cold, ridiculously cold. Even with the time we had we were stuck in the dead of winter. Currently, Sam, Scott and a handful of other soldiers waited out close to the coordinates that Hydra left, just out of the city bounds of New York. The area was barren so if a fight goes down, no civilians will get hurt. Hydra specified they wanted me alone, but there was no way in hell that would happen, they had to know that, so we prepared for a fight, backup standing by.

_ “What do you see?” _

“Nothing yet.”

_ “Are you--” _

The comms cut out, only static following.

“Hello? Sam?”

“I don’t think you will get an answer, my friend.” 

A man steps out from shadows, hands behind his back, looking at me like some sort of prey. He wears a suit, much unlike the Hydra uniforms, but speaks in a Russian accent. He tilts his head and smiles, “You see, we knew you would come with your little buddies, but then again they have not been so keen on our plans.”

I stay silent, glaring him down.

“Shy, are you? I bet you’re scanning the area for him now,” he shrugs, “you will find he’s not in the proximity.”

“What do you want?”

“Ah the fossil speaks. Well, that’s a fairly easy question but if you haven’t figured that out by now, oh, that really is a shame. We just needed you.”

I sense it before I see it.

Ducking, I just miss the crowbar to the head. I aim a punch for his exposed side but he reacts quickly and spins out of my range. He was a massive brute, crowbar still in one hand. I do a few quick jabs but his mass is hard to move around and find a soft spot. I twist, turn, dodge just trying to drain his energy. I land a hard blow to his side which doubles him over but before I can do anymore, a sharp prick stings my neck.

Tingles run up my spine and stars spot in the corners of my vision, I fall to my knees, everything going numb. The two men spin in my sight but I know that’s just me passing out. Before I can utter a word, attempt to call Sam, my cheek hits the cold ground and darkness greets me.

…

I open my eyes to bright light, making me squint and giving my brain a sharp throb. Chains trap my hands above my head and feet anchored down. Something pokes my arm but I can’t move my head to see what it is.

“He’s awake.” The man from before steps into the blinding light, “How’s your head?”

I stay quiet, my head giving another painful throb.

“Yeah, that would be expected. You can’t see but we are taking samples of your blood so you may feel some discomfort.” He smirks, knowing damn well it hurts like hell.

“What do you want?” I rasp, my tongue leaden.

“My goals are far beyond your understanding, for now you should be worried about your buddy, and yourself.” 

He motions to someone nearby, in the darkness outside the light. Moments later, a rattling and scraping sound fills the room.

“You can all go to hell, this brainwashing thing is getting old. Seventeen, homecoming, freight car my ass.”

The sound I recognize as Bucky’s stubborn arguing.

“Bucky?” I choke.

“Steve?” His tone goes serious, by the way he says my name I know he can’t see me. I pray to god he’s only blindfolded.

“What is going on? What are you doing here?” He growls, more to the people in the room.

The man laughs, “As you may see, Captain America, this subject does not seem to be so prone to previous methods. So we have come up with more… creative ways to make him submit.”

A sharp pain rips through my skull, I can’t help but scream.

“What are you doing to him?! Stop it!”

It was blinding and numbing but increasingly worse, then voices. Voices I haven’t heard in decades.

_ But Mom, I don’t wanna go. The kids are mean. _

_ Don’t worry, Stevie, Bucky will go with you. He will protect you. _

“Mom?” I gasp, the pain intensifies.   
  


“What is happening?! What are you doing?!” 

I can faintly hear Bucky’s pleading in the background.

“We are stripping away every memory of you he has. By the time we’re done, he won’t even remember your name.”

“No!”

_ Buck, I’m fine. _

_ You need to stop picking fights, and no, there’s blood all over your face. _

_ Really, just leave me alone. _

_ Steve, stop, let me help you. _

“You can’t do this!”

The man chuckles, “We already are.”

A loud crash sounds outside the door.

“What was that?”

_ Don’t you have a date to get back to? _

_ She wasn’t much fun anyways, what’s wrong Steve? _

_ It’s just not my scene, I’ll just end up third wheeling after the girl ditches me. _

_ What girl would want to pass up you, you’re the perfect package. _

_ *scoffs* Tell that to every girl you’ve tried setting me up with. _

_ Hey, I’m just trying to help you out. _

Another crash, several shouts.

“Get them out of--”

He’s cut off by the door getting blasted open.

Soldiers flood the room, a loud bang and I hear footsteps approach. 

Before I can comprehend any of it, another sharp pain sears my brain.

_ I’m with you till the end of the line, pal. _

… 

This time, I wake up in a hospital bed with a softer light above me. I hear whispers outside the door but don’t give it a second thought. My head aches and my movements feel sluggish but otherwise, the pain is gone.

The door opens quietly.

“Hey Cap, how are you?”

Sam walks in, a small smile on his face.

“Um, okay. What happened?” My voice is hoarse, I don’t know how long it was…

“When they took you they didn't remove the tracker, Tony’s design keeps it hidden and below the radar so whatever methods they used, they couldn’t find it. The compound they took you to was heavily guarded so we had to circle back and get more soldiers. After that, we were able to get through and take over. We took a few prisoners but several of them killed themselves before we could get our hands on them, mostly scientists devoted to Hydra. We found you and Bucky but nothing else of use so we destroyed the building.”

I nod, “Bucky’s okay? He’s back?”

“He had a few cuts and bruises but stayed mostly the same. Their main experiment was going to be you so they didn’t get around to much more.”

I let out a breath of relief.

A few moments pass in silence.

“What happens now?”

Sam shakes his head, “I don’t know, we still have to figure out Hydra’s planning, there’s more attacks and schemes to come. And…”

“You can’t send me back.”

He sighs, “No, we can’t.”

BANG!

“No, I am going to go see him, I don’t give a damn about your policies.”

“Sir, no--”

The door flies open and a very disgruntled Bucky stomps in, a nurse on his heels.

Sam gives the nurse a nod, “It’s fine.” He looks back at us, “I’ll leave you guys to talk.”

He leaves with the very flustered nurse.

Bucky stares at me like he’s seeing a ghost, “Wow, you haven’t changed a bit.”

I smile, “Couldn’t say the same for you, is that grey in your hair?”

He laughs, and that sound puts all my problems at ease.

I raise my arm, “Come here.”

He embraces me, burying his face in my neck. We just sat like that and for the first time, I felt like I was protecting him. In this moment I don’t know why I ever left, yes, Peggy was the love of my life, but she can live without me, she can move on. Bucky, he’s my other half, and he can’t forgive and forget. He needs me just as much as I need him, as much as always.

So we sit together, a bittersweet tear running down my cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thanks for reading, stay tuned for a new whump every day this month!! <3


	2. the thing about Spiderman...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why should I stop, Peter? Why should I stop thinking about you, worrying about you, while you lie to me every single day?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 2: "I can't take this anymore"
> 
> written by me :)

Being in love with Peter Parker was like playing a constant, exhausting guessing game. Was the guy going to come home with a bruise? A sprained ankle? On some days, MJ was up late enough to see him stumble into the bathroom, grunting as he tried to quietly stitch up a gash on his arm. She didn't know what sort of fights the guy got into but whatever they were, they got messy. She tried to intervene one day, when Peter came into the apartment after two AM, limping profusely.

"Parker, what the hell is going on with you?" MJ had her arms crossed and was standing in front of the bathroom door.

"MJ! You're still up!" Peter's gaze darted around the apartment. "Sorry. I was coming home late from work, and I got jumped by a couple guys."

Peter worked the late shift at the 24-hour pizzeria a few blocks away. At least, that's what he always told MJ.

"Uh-huh. And does this same group of guys do this to you every single night?"

"No… I'm prone to injury, you know that. Sometimes I trip, or bump into someone-"

"Bumping into someone wouldn't normally warrant a black eye, Parker. Are you doing, like, cage matches or something?"

"MJ, come on. You really think  _ I  _ would be doing cage matches on a Friday night?"

MJ jutted out her lip. She knew he probably wouldn't, but she didn't doubt Peter was stronger than he let on. She'd witnessed his muscular torso and gleaming biceps firsthand when they'd been doing… less appropriate activities together.

"No, I don't. But you're keeping something from me, Peter. If someone is hurting you every night-"

"MJ, I'm fine. I promise. Can we just… not worry about me right now? I missed you."

He walked closer to MJ, running his fingers up her arms and leaning in to kiss her. She kissed him back slowly, tangling her fingers in his hair.

"Don't think I'm not mad at you because of this, Parker," she warned, pulling his hair back to get him off of her. "I'm gonna get to the bottom of this, whether you tell me what's going on with you or not."

"Mhm." Peter was distracted, rubbing his thumb against MJ's cheek and kissing her neck. She rolled her eyes, but that didn't mean she wanted him to stop.

"You're a nightmare, Peter Parker."

"Hey, I'm trying."

MJ smirked.

"You always are."

Though her annoyance at the boy was locked away in the heat of the moment, MJ was determined. She had… suspicions about what Peter was doing at night. She just needed to find out if they were true.

***

"Hey, Ned, pass me that pen, will you? The red one."

Peter was sitting with Ned in the empty library after his last class had ended, studying for an upcoming exam.

"Yeah, sure," Ned said, tossing him the pen. "Hey, by the way, what went down between you and MJ last night? After you texted me saying she saw you get back, you didn't answer."

"Sorry about that. We were a little… busy."

Ned raised his eyebrows, earning himself a playful punch to the shoulder from Peter.

"No, it's fine, man. MJ doesn't know anything. She can't."

"You told me."

"Uh-uh.  _ Way  _ different. You saw me come into my room one day sophomore year, when I was still careless about that stuff."

Ned shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I just can't believe you've managed to keep it from her for, like, four years. It just doesn't seem right, Peter."

Peter groaned, rolling the pen cap between his fingers.

"I know it's not the best thing, to keep secrets from her," he replied, "but too many people know already and I'm not going to put her in danger, too. And you know how MJ is… she would want to help out and I can't get her involved. I can't risk her safety like that, Ned." Peter leaned back, turning the page of his book. "Besides, she's had enough to worry about these days. All those classes have her studying all the time, and she's working harder than she should be to try and get into that exchange program. No need to stress her out more."

“You make a fair point,” Ned replied, nodding.

“Yeah. But, hey, if she asks you anything, can you just say I started a new internship I wanted to surprise her about or something? She’s really been questioning me lately.”

“Of course. I got your back, man.”

“Thanks, Ned.” Peter sighed. “By that way, how’s Betty?”

Ned grinned.

“She’s doing really good. We both are.”

“That’s great! I’m glad to hear it.”

“Sup, dorks?”

Peter and Ned both turned around to see a tired-looking MJ behind them, her hair pulled up into its usual ponytail. Peter smiled.

“Hey, M. You studying, too?”

“Yup. Got a psych test coming up.” she set her books down on the table and pulled out the chair next to Peter, sitting down with a huff. “Fun shit,” she said, sarcastically.

“Hey, do you guys wanna do something tonight? Betty and I were thinking about hitting up that Mexican place on West 24th, if you guys want to join us.” Ned shot Peter a furtive look.

“Yeah, I’m down. If Peter is.”

“Uh… yeah. Sure, I can.” Peter nodded, shooting Ned a smile.

“Great! Let’s meet at 7, okay?”

Peter nodded.

“Yeah. Seven.”

***

Peter wasn’t here. MJ didn’t know if it was the cold air surrounding her as she waited outside the restaurant or the lack of her phone’s tone signaling he had texted back, but she was growing impatient. Peter was one to miss things occasionally; he got caught up on stuff sometimes. But he would always send a text to MJ with some excuse, which at least did something to cool her down. Now, though, it was almost 8, and she hadn’t heard a thing from Peter.

_ When I get home later, Parker _ , she thought to herself, _ you and I are gonna have a serious chat. _

“Hey, MJ. Peter still isn’t here?” Ned opened the door and came outside where she was, looking over her shoulder at her quiet phone.

“Nope.”

“Oh… um…” Ned looked around, rubbing the back of his neck. Something about his expression seemed strange to MJ. He looked like he was trying not to say something. “Well, I’m sure he just got caught up at his last class. Or maybe he forgot.”

“How could he forget, Leeds? We live in the same damn apartment. He wasn;t home when I got there, and he wasn’t there when I left, either.”

Ned shrugged, trying to come off as unbothered. It wasn’t really working.

“He may have gotten caught up with something MJ. And maybe his phone died.”

“His phone didn’t die, Ned! He’s keeping secrets from me, and you’re helping him! MJ stood up, turning to face Ned. Her face was burning up now, despite the cold. “What if he’s with another girl or something? What if that’s why he comes home so late every night? Or what if he’s off, I don’t know, killing people or something? What the  _ fuck  _ could he be doing every goddamn night, Ned?! I’m sick and tired of his bullshit! And yours!”

Ned took a step back, raising his hands in the air.

“MJ, I- Peter isn’t like that. He’s not cheating on you and he’s not a serial killer, and you know it.”

“Yeah, well, nobody knew Ted Bundy was a serial killer, either.”

“MJ!” Ned’s eyes widened. “You don't mean any of that. You’re just angry.”

In truth, she was. Peter would never hurt a fly, and he was too loyal and attached to MJ to ever be sleeping with someone else. She knew that, but she felt so angry and confused. What was so much more important to Peter every night than being honest with her? Why was he always injured when he stumbled back into the apartment?

“No, you’re right. But I’m worried  _ sick _ , Ned.”

“I know you are. I’m sorry.”

MJ wiped her nose with the sleeve of her sweater, trying to suppress her tears.

“I’m going home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She didn’t wait for any goodbye from Ned, she just turned around and began to walk. Eventually, she reached her street.

“Hey, lady!”

Something landed beside her and she jumped, turning to face the familiar person she’d seen all over the news.

“Uh… Spiderman?” She questioned. He nodded.

“Yeah.”

MJ didn’t know too much about Spiderman. She had never really cared much about superheroes, even though pretty much everyone she had ever known was obsessed with them, fighting over whether Captain America or Black Widow was more attractive. It was stupid and objectifying to her. If anything, the reason she liked Spiderman at all was because he seemed like a genuine, down-to-earth person who really only cared about the help he provided. In some ways, he reminded her of Peter.

On second thought, he  _ seriously  _ reminded her of her boyfriend…

“What are you doing here? Don’t you have, I dunno, some bank robbery to be thwarting right now?”

He shrugged, the blue and red of his tight suit standing out against the darkness.

“Not at the moment.”

“Uh-huh. And why are you bothering me, exactly?”

“Just thought you might want some company on your way home. You look lonely.”

“Yeah, well, my boyfriend has ghosted me one too many times, so forgive me for looking a little down in the dumps.”

The Spider-guy seemed to tense up for a moment.

“Uh- what do you mean, ghosted you?”

“He was supposed to meet me somewhere. Never showed up.”

“Oh, God. I am so sorry.” He sounded miserable, and MJ looked up at him, confused. At the same time, she was trying to place where she had heard his voice before. It sounded really deep, but almost as if he had tried to make it that way.

“Why? It’s not your fault.”

“Er… yeah. That’s just too bad. You deserve better.”

She shrugged.

“He’s a nice guy. Really great. It’s just… sometimes I feel like he doesn’t even care about me.”

“Why’s that?”

"He goes out every night to do whatever it is he does. He doesn’t tell me why, but sometimes he comes back looking beat up. He won’t even tell me what he does. I’m mostly just worried, but it also frustrates me. Because, I mean, does he just not care enough about me to let me in on his secrets? He knows I won’t judge him for it.”

Spiderman stayed quiet for a moment.

“Sorry. Don’t know why I’m telling you all of this. I just can’t really take it anymore.” She sighed. “It hurts. I’m tired of it hurting. I just want to not be worried about him for a few minutes. I worry about him so much that it feels like I don’t have time to worry about myself.”

“Do you really feel that way, MJ?” He murmured, so quiet it was almost a whisper. He sounded pained, but MJ was too lost in her own thoughts to pay attention to that. Or the fact that he knew her name.

“I wish he’d just… trust me. I always feel like he's gonna come home one night really badly hurt, and I’ll have never even had the chance to protect him from whoever’s hurting him. He’s a nice guy, but he goes too far sometimes. He’s always trying to protect  _ me. _ And I know it sounds selfish to say, but why can’t he just let me protect him for a while?”

“That’s not selfish. You’re worried about him, and it shows how much you care about him.” He waved his hand. “Let me walk you home.”

“Uh… thanks.”

They walked for a while, his shoulder brushing against hers every once in a while. He was about her size. Walking like this felt safe for her. It felt nice to have someone beside her where she would usually be by herself. And the guy was being really kind to her. Nicer than she’d expected him to be.

“Maybe you should tell him you don’t like the secrets.”

“That won’t make him tell me.”

“Maybe it will. Maybe if he realizes how much it’s hurting you, he’ll tell you what’s going on. Maybe… maybe he  _ does  _ need to tell you, after all. It’s only fair.” His voice went quiet, and he looked down. “Then again, maybe he has a good reason for not telling you. Either way, he definitely shouldn’t be ditching you.”

“Yeah. You’re right.”

When they had reached her apartment building she stopped, and Spiderman turned to look at her.

“This you?” He asked, gesturing towards it.

“Yes. Thanks for the talk, Spiderman. It was nice.”

“Yeah. Anytime.” He nodded, then tensed suddenly, looking behind him. “Well, uh, duty calls, so I have to go.”

Though she knew he had a job to do, MJ found herself saddened by the idea of being alone again. Wherever Peter was, she knew he wouldn’t be home for at least a few hours. 

By the time she had eaten dinner and gotten herself cleaned up for the night, MJ was ready to crash. Part of her wanted to stay up and wait for Peter, but the other, larger part of her knew it probably wouldn’t be worth it.

Just as she had begun to doze off, she heard the door open. The sound was quiet, and she almost thought she had imagined it. But, sure enough, as she cracked her eyes open she noticed Peter’s shadowy figure, silhouette in the light of the open bathroom doorway. He was breathing hard, but she couldn’t see his face.

“Peter,” she said, quietly. He turned around, walking into the shadow of the room so she  _ still  _ couldn’t see him clearly. She sat up, turning towards him.

“Peter we need to talk.”

“Yeah… Um… can it be in a bit, though? I- I have something- MJ-”

He reached out to stop her as she turned on the lamp next to her bed, but the damage had been done. MJ wished she could close her eyes. She wished she could lay back down in bed and wake up the next morning, realizing it was just some stupid nightmare. But the blood dripping down Peter’s hand, which was pressed against his torso, streaming down his blue sweatpants and making them turn an awful shade of brown, and dripping down onto the light wood floor was definitely real.

“Peter?! Peter, what the  _ fuck?! _ ”

“I- I can explain- It’s nothing- MJ, just go back to bed!”

“Oh, you really expect me to just lay back down and  _ forget  _ about the fact that you look on the verge of bleeding to death?! Too fucking far, Parker.”

“MJ, I’m sorry.” Peter backed away when she stood up.

“We need to call the doctor before your ass dies right here.”

“No! No doctors!” Peter shook his head. “I can handle it. MJ, I swear I can handle it. Do  _ not  _ call a doctor.”

“Then let me help you at least.” She came forward and touched Peter’s hand, pulling it away from his stomach. Lifting up his shirt, she wiped away some of the blood with her hand to reveal a jagged gash outlined through very bright, red and blue clothing.

“Wait- you- this- I-”

Peter groaned.

“You weren’t supposed to see that. MJ, I’ll talk to you. I promise I will. Just let me handle this first.”

He walked as casually as he could into the bathroom, leaving a stunned MJ next to their bed, her hand smeared with fresh blood. She shook her head after a moment, recovering.

_ That doesn’t matter right now. What matters is Peter. _

He was already rubbing alcohol onto the gash, wincing in pain. MJ sat down beside him, pulling the first aid kit closer to her. Upon opening it, she realized Peter had really prepared himself for these types of situations.

“Come here.”

She leaned over Peter, pulling him into her chest and ripping away the fabric of the spandex suit to expose his lower torso. Wordlessly, she sanitized a needle and pulled the medical thread through it, stabbing it into Peter’s skin more harshly then she had meant to, earning herself a pained yelp from him. When she was done, she stood up and washed her hands in the sink, trying her best not to look at the way the water turned a dark crimson as it spiraled down the drain. Peter sat against the bathroom wall, pulling off his shirt and rolling the top part of his suit down to his hips so he could wrap a bandage around the wound. The place remained eerily silent as MJ bent down to wipe some of the blood off the floor with a washcloth.

“Don’t, it’s my problem.”

Keeping her mouth shut tight, MJ continued to scrub at the floor.

“MJ, stop. Please.”

“Why should I?” she said suddenly, sitting up to shoot a glare at Peter. “Why should I stop, Peter? Why should I stop thinking about you, worrying about you, while you  _ lie  _ to me every single day?”

“MJ, I-”

“Shut up, Peter. Let me talk.”

Peter stayed quiet, leaning back against the wall. Right now, MJ didn’t care that they were sitting in a dirty, red-stained bathroom, a metallic smell lingering in the air, or the fact that she was crouching in a drying patch of the stuff. She didn’t give a shit.

“You’ve kept this from me for so fucking long. I  _ cannot  _ handle this anymore, Peter. You didn’t even get the chance to tell me the truth tonight; you just came in here, looking like you were about to drop dead! How the hell am I supposed to feel about that? How am I supposed to feel about the fact that every single night, you go out and risk your life for people you don’t even know, when you could get killed, and you’ve never even thought to tell me that?! You don’t even want to know the scenarios I was imagining in my head about what you were doing.”

“MJ, I- I was going to tell you tonight. I’m being honest about that. After hearing about how you felt, I really was. But there’s a reason I never did tell you. I was  _ scared,  _ M. I was so scared that if I told you my secret, you’d become a target. People would want to use you to get to me.”

MJ scoffed.

“Peter, they never would’ve been able to do that because it’s not like I would’ve been announcing to the world I know who Spiderman is.”

Peter dropped his gaze, fiddling with his fingers.

“You’re probably right. I was just so anxious. If I told you, and it got you in danger or worse, I wouldn’t be able to live with that.”

MJ sighed, standing up and taking Peter’s hand.

“Just… take a shower, Peter. Get some clothes on.”

“No, M, I need to finish telling you this.” Peter stood up on shaky legs, reaching out to touch MJ’s cheek. “I- well, it was wrong of me to keep that from you. It hurt you. And I’m so sorry for that. I really am. You don’t have to forgive me. I just need you to know that.”

MJ sighed, unconsciously leaning into Peter’s touch.

“I know you had the best intentions. Doesn’t mean I’m not pissed at you. Or worried. You need to be more careful, going out there.”

“I know. I get reckless sometimes.”

MJ laughed softly, leaning forward.

“I know that, dork.”

She felt relieved in some sense, knowing that Peter wasn’t lying because he was doing something terrible, or hurting her in other ways. MJ was relieved, but it didn’t ease the worry clenching at her heart at this new information about Peter. She knew she may never feel good about him being Spiderman. She would always be worried.

But, as she leaned in to kiss Peter softly, placing her hands around his shoulders, she also knew that nothing could keep her away from him.

“You’re a crazy idiot, you know that, Parker?”

Peter smiled into the kiss, touching her waist.

“I know. But you have my back anyways.”

MJ smiled, too, because she also knew he was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked! I don't really like writing spideychelle tbh, I'm more of a parkner/parkrsborn type but I thought why not lol


	3. we'll be a fine line (we'll be alright)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're trapped, kleine," he spoke slowly, drawing out his words with such menace it sent a chill to Peter's bones. "You're stuck here, and none of your little Avenger friends are coming for you. They don't care enough to."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 3: imprisonment
> 
> This one's a bit heavier whew
> 
> written by me :)

_ “New York. Queens. It’s a rough borough but, hey, it’s home.” _

“Mr. Stark!”

“Uh- I- what, kid?! You’re an hour early!”

Tony shut off the video monitor as quickly as he could. Peter gave him a skeptical sideways glance.

“I know. I got out of decathlon practice early today, so I thought I’d surprise you.” He cocked his head to the side, peering at Tony’s computer screen. “Whatcha watching?”

“Uh, nothing. Just some old press conference videos of mine. You know me.”

“Oh… okay then.” The brown-haired boy rubbed his hands together, coming to sit by Tony. “So, are we going to work on those new web shooters today? I had some designs-”

“Actually, kiddo, I had a different idea. I figured today, you could get in some light training with Nat. Y’know, Avengers stuff and all.”

If Peter had been happy before, now he looked like he was about to burst with excitement.

“Really?! Oh my god, Mr. Stark, that would be awesome, and Ms. Romanoff is such a great teacher!”

“Yeah, just don’t let her hear you calling her Ms. Romanoff.” He leaned back in his chair. “I think Barton’s in there, too. Just be on your best behavior.”

“I  _ know,  _ Mr. Stark. I’m not a kid.” Peter stood up, pretending to roll his eyes at the older man, but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. Tony grinned.

“You’re a sixteen year old. You qualify as a kid,” he said, laughing when Peter stuck his tongue out. “Now skedaddle there, young buck.”

An elated Peter hopped out of the room to go change for training, leaving Tony alone in the lab. He turned his monitor back on, the video feed popping up again. 

_ “Who you talkin’ to?” _

_ That was Happy’s voice. _

_ “Uh- no one. Just… making a little video of the trip.” _

_ “You know you can’t show that to anyone.” _

_ “Yeah.. I know.” _

_ “Then why are you narrating in that voice?” _

_ “Um… ‘cause it’s fun!” _

_ “Fine.” _

_ “So, uh… why’d they call you Happy?” _

Tony laughed to himself when Happy closed the window on the kid, showing his confused face. He had seen this video countless times, but it never failed to make him feel a little better. He would never tell anyone that, though.

_ “I’m not carrying your bags. Let’s go.” _

_ “Hey… should I go to the bathroom before?” _

_ “There’s a bathroom on it.” _

_ “Woah… no pilot? That’s awesome!” _

“Tony!”

Tony lifted his hands in the air, ripped again from his haven.

“What’s a guy gotta do to get a little peace and quiet around here?!”

“Sorry, but you weren’t answering your robot phone… thing.”

“FRIDAY, old man.” Tony turned in his chair to face Steve, who was standing in the doorway of his lab, arms crossed.

“Whatever. You busy?” He asked, gesturing towards the computer screen, where Tony had forgotten to minimize Peter’s glowing face.

“Uh… no.”

Steve smirked.

“You sure about that?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. What do you want, Capsicle?”

“We’ve got a pinpoint on our radar. Hydra’s been sending out communication signals, and Sam was able to locate where they were coming from.”

“Okay… do we have to handle it right this moment?”

Steve walked closer to Tony.

“Yeah, Stark, I think we do. There’s a bunch of missing persons reports for the last week, and there was a spike this morning.” Steve leaned down to plug a flash drive into Tony’s monitor. “It’s mostly kids.”

“What would Hydra want with a bunch of kids?” Tony scoffed. “Are they trying to make another Winter Soldier army, this time with a bunch of teenagers?”

Steve shrugged.

“I don’t know. But whatever it is, we know it’s not good.”

“Alright, then. Gather the team. We’ll leave immediately.”

Steve nodded, standing up and pulling out the drive.

“I’m on it.”

That was when everything began to go wrong.

***

“Where’s Peter?”

“What the hell do you mean, ‘where’s Peter?’”

“What I mean is, where the  _ hell  _ is Peter?”

“Wh- he’s not with you?”

Tony wanted to scream into his earpiece.

“No, he’s not with me, Barton. I thought he was supposed to be with you!”

“Well, he’s not.”

Tony cursed under his breath. He never should’ve brought the kid along and he knew that. But Peter had been insistent.

“They’re just kids, Mr. Stark. They’re like me and I  _ need  _ to help them.” Peter had said, still breathless and sweaty from his training session with Natasha and Clint.

“Kid, I can’t just put you out there like that. This isn’t your regular neighborhood stuff.”

“Why train me to be an Avenger if you’re never gonna actually let me  _ be  _ an Avenger?”

_ Okay, he’s got a point.  _

“Fine. Only because there are only a few targets. But you stay next to someone at all times, you got it, Parker? If you get into trouble you’ll be grounded for the rest of your life.”

“Like you can ground me,” Peter huffed.

“I can, and I will.”

Now, at the base they had just taken out, Tony was regretting his decision wholeheartedly.

“I need recon for Parker. Immediately.”

“Sam and I are heading back to look for him,” Nat answered.

Steve must have heard Tony’s breathing pattern sharpening and becoming irregular, because he tried to console him.

“Tony, calm down. I’m sure he probably just got distracted by something in there. We took everyone out.”

They had done a good job of clearing the area, and now about twelve kids, ranging from ten years old to twenty one, were on the two quinjets they had flown here, getting looked at by Helen Cho and her team. There weren't any Hydra agents left standing; Tony knew that for a fact. So where was Peter?

"Stark, there's no sign of him. We're scanning the building, but there's nothing."

"That's impossible. He has to be in there. Pete?"

Peter's comms stayed deadly silent. Tony felt his gut beginning to twist.

"Tony. You need to breathe."

He landed beside Steve, pulling off his mask and dropping to his knees, not realizing how dizzy he had become. Steve placed his hand on his shoulder.

"He's in there. Keep looking."

"Tony, we've all looked  _ everywhere _ . The kid isn't here!"

"No, Wilson! I don't have time for your bullshit!"

"There's no bullshit, Tony!"

"Guys!" Steve shouted. "Stop fighting. It's not going to help this situation."

"Tony," Natasha said through the comms. "We have injured kids who need better medical assistance  _ now.  _ If you want, I'll stay and look for him with you. But the rest of the team needs to get back to the compound."

"I'll stay with him," Steve said firmly. "Nat, you and Barton take care of the others."

"Are you sure?" Natasha questioned. “I want to make sure he’s okay, too.”

Steve crouched down beside Tony, who was clenching his metal-clad fists together in anxiety.

"Yeah. I'm sure."

“Okay. Call when you need us to come get you. The area should be safe.”

The quinjets rose into the air and sped away, leaving Tony and Steve at the edge of the forest.

“Tony. C’mon. Let’s go look for him.”

***

“Let me go, shitface!”

Another bolt of electricity ran through Peter’s body as the man stuck the pole through the bars of the cell, making him spasm in pain. Around him, there were at least four people, talking in German, which Peter didn’t understand.

“Wir sollten ihn einfach töten,” one of them said, approaching Peter’s cell. One of the men next to him shook his head.

“Hey, I don’t know if your head is so far up your asses you can’t hear me, but I’ve already told you I can’t understand shit you’re saying.”

The man who had shocked him and was holding the taser-tipped stick threateningly shot Peter a smirk.

“He says we should just kill you,” he said, in a heavy German accent, “but our superior would not approve of that, unfortunately. Besides, it is much more fun to watch you squirm.”

He shocked Peter again and the boy screamed, the pain seeming to last forever when, in reality, it was only a few seconds, the burn of the electricity lingering on his body after the man retreated. 

“You- should really- watch where you put that thing.” even as he laid on the cold stone floor, heaving, he felt it was his duty to be as much of an asshole as possible.

He had woken up here about an hour ago, after being shot by something back at the base, his comms taken and his suit stripped off him so he was, humiliatingly enough, trapped behind thick, steel bars in nothing more than his boxers.

“Strucker will not be happy with us for losing all of those other subjects, but he will be  _ delighted  _ to know we have obtained an enhanced.”

“Strucker? He’s still alive?” Despite his situation, Peter couldn't ignore the spark of curiosity in his chest. “Thought he was killed by the Avengers when they took back Loki’s staff.”

The man crouched so he was at Peter’s level on the floor of the cell, and Peter pressed his back against the wall, to try and keep himself as far from the taser as possible.

“Yes, I suppose he was, wasn’t he?” he said, smiling menacingly. “Maybe they didn’t do their job so well, after all.”

He reached in and shocked Peter yet again, this time for much longer than before, holding the current against his chest and Peter thrashed, doing his best to move himself away from the stick but unable to think clearly because of the agonizing pain shooting from his torso throughout his whole body. When the guy had pulled away, Peter’s muscles continued to contract, still reeling from the shock.

The man hurting Peter exchanged a few words in German with the one beside him.

“My friend here says you are holding up surprisingly well. A jolt like that would have killed any normal person. Lucky for you,  _ kleine, _ you are no normal person at all.” He stood up, and Peter breathed out a small sigh of relief as he set the taser stick down on a table in the middle of the room, turning to leave.

“We will be back with Strucker soon. Be a good boy until then.”

“Fuck you,” Peter spat, but he instantly regretted it when the man turned back around.

“You know, I was considering leaving you in peace for a while,” he said, a scarily cold expression on his face. “But it seems I need to teach you a lesson in manners. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“No- wait-” Peter’s body tensed up as the man reached out for something else on the table, a small, jaggedly-edged knife. He tried to stand up, but his legs were still shaky and he felt the combined effects of the drugs in his body and the previous electrical torture keep him down. The man advanced towards him, opening the cell door as Peter struggled.

“Let’s see just how much you can handle.”

***

“Tony, if he was here, we would’ve found him by now. Someone took him somewhere else.”

"Well, then we have to find out where that somewhere else  _ is. _ " Tony checked the tracker for Peter's suit, but it had been cut off in their exact location. Someone had known to deactivate it.

"Maybe we should go back and look for him there. We have more resources we can use."

"And leave him out here? He could be here!"

"Yeah, and he could also be literally anywhere else. Tony, it's been three hours. We need to go back to the compound and regroup so we can come up with a better plan of action."

"Go home yourself, Rogers," Tony replied, his voice steely. "I'm staying here to look for the kid, because I'm apparently the only one who gives enough shits about him to do so, anyways."

"Tony." Steve's voice hardened. "You  _ know  _ that we all care. That's not the reason for this. It's because he's not here." He reached out, touching Tony's shoulder. "You're not thinking straight, and it won't help you. It won't help him, either."

He was right, but Tony didn't want to let him know that. Steve didn't need to know he was mad at himself more than anything. The guilt tore at him like a claw, eating away at his heart until he felt too much of it to focus on anything else. He had lost his kid, the one who he was supposed to protect.

"Tony," Steve repeated, softer this time.

"Yeah. On it."

They called a jet back in and flew home. All the way back, Tony couldn't help but wish he had stayed and kept looking.

"We can look for him here, okay? We can use your drones, and satellite images." Steve was trying to reach Tony, but his brain had left him in some distant location, and he felt himself numb to everything except his own worry.

"Stark. Snap out of it."

He looked up to see Nat across from him, her arms folded in front of her as they sat at the holographic display table in the meeting room.

"I'm here. We need to scan the buildings in the cities around the base. See if we can pick up any abnormal heat signatures. Look underground, too. I can hack into the camera systems for any places we need. Nobody leaves this room until we find him."

Steve nodded shortly.

"We will find him, Tony."

_ We better,  _ Tony thought to himself,  _ or I won't be able to live with the fact that I lost him. That he's gone. _

***

Peter was trembling weakly, his arms raised above his head.

"Please- please stop-"

The man above him stood, the same psychotic grin plastered onto his face.

"You're trapped,  _ kleine, _ " he spoke slowly, drawing out his words with such menace it sent a chill to Peter's bones. "You're stuck here, and none of your little Avenger friends are coming for you. They don't care enough to."

"That's not true," Peter whispered, but he was having a hard time believing it himself. Blood trickled down his chin from an unidentified wound on his face, and there were purple and red welts littered across his bare, shirtless chest. His muscles still quivered from the feeling of white-hot electric currents ripping through his body.

"Isn't it, though?"

"No," Peter said, still defiant as ever as he glared up at the man. "It isn't."

The big man stepped closer to him and bent down until he was right in front of Peter's face, his ugly, yellowed teeth and pale skin only inches from the boy. Peter wanted to go home. He had already tried to escape, tried to worm his way out the door, but he had been dragged back inside, screaming so hard his throat became dry and hoarse and his strangled cries turned into pathetic whimpers. He hated this. He hated the feeling of being stuck. Alone. Imprisoned.

The man held up the electric shocker and Peter merely let out a hoarse "please," flinching away from the weapon, to the satisfaction of the man.

"No one will find you, little spider," he whispered into Peter's ear. "You are Hydra's now."

Peter was beginning to believe him.

When the man had finally left, all Peter could do was slump against the wall of the room, tears running silently down his face. The Hydra agent had left the bars of the cell open, but he knew the door would be locked and he'd be too weak to get very far, anyways, knowing full well he was somewhere that was heavily guarded. He was helpless, and it made him feel so  _ scared.  _ He wanted Tony to come for him, to wrap him in a hug and tell him it would be okay. That he would be okay. But Tony had probably forgotten about him already.

_ That's ridiculous, Peter,  _ he told himself. But… maybe it wasn't.

Being left alone with his thoughts was almost scarier than being tortured. Peter's brain kept saying  _ pain, pain, pain _ , and, when he lifted his hands off his chest they were dark red with blood and his knuckles were torn apart from where he had tried to beat his way out of the room. He bent his fingers closed, letting out a sharp yelp of anguish when they burned. He tried to push himself up but let out another cry as his tired, battered body gave out on him. There was nothing he could do.

_ Alone, alone, alone, _ his mind whispered.

"Shut up," Peter muttered. "Shut up!"

_ Alone. Trapped. Alone. _

Peter closed his eyes and covered his ears, and he waited.

It wasn't long before the man came back, muttering something German to a few other people, all of whom eyed him with an unsettling curiosity, as if they were evaluating Peter's current state.

"Little spider, this is Baron Von Strucker," the man spoke sweetly, as if he was Peter's father introducing him to one of his work friends. It made the kid want to barf.

_ Alone. Alone. _

Peter eyed the tall, stern-looking man with wariness as he approached.

"Hello, Peter Parker," he said, his thick accent making it hard for Peter's numbingly exhausted mind to understand. "My, such a curious case you are. You've held up remarkably well."

"What are you gonna do to me?" Peter said, trying to sound confident but the question coming out more like a desperate plea.

Strucker smiled.

"I'm intrigued by your physical stamina, Peter. You appear to have very rapid healing," he replied, gesturing to the bruises on Peter's torso that were already beginning to fade. "I'd like to test your limits."

"Yeah, well I'd like it if you didn't."

"Unfortunately, you don't have much of a choice in the matter."

_ Help me. _ Peter wanted someone. He wanted  _ anyone  _ to take him out of this place. But as Strucker lifted him up and forced him to support himself on his two shaky, screaming legs, Peter didn't know what to do. He had nowhere to run. Then Stucker hit him in the chest and he gasped, falling back against the wall as the man gave him another eerily arid smile.

"Stand up."

"I- I can't."

Strucker grabbed him by the arms and lifted him again.

"Stand  _ up, _ " he repeated, harsher this time. Peter had just regained his balance when he was hit again, this time on a fresh, open wound in his side, causing him to let out a mangled, cracked scream.

He closed his eyes again, trying to block it out as he was hit again and again, sparks dancing across his vision and his entire body aching in pain. Strucker hit him across the face and he coughed, tasting metallic, coppery blood in his mouth.

_ Alone. Alone. Alone, Peter Parker. No one is going to save you. _

As Peter's sight began to grow blurry and unfocused and he felt a sudden lightness in his head, he gave in to the darkness, those thoughts being the last in his mind before he sank into the black, cold depths beneath him.

***

_ “It was the most amazing thing that’s ever happened! So Mr. Stark was like ‘hey, underoos!’ and I just sorta flipped in and I stole Cap’s shield and I was like ‘hey, what’s up everybody’ and then-” _

_ There was a knock on the door. _

_ “Hey, just a second! Coming!” _

_ Peter flipped over the bed to meet a disgruntled-looking Happy. _

_ “Hey!” _

_ “We have thin walls here.” _

_ The scene switched from the hotel room to a sleek, black car and Tony’s grinning face. _

_ “What are you doin’, a little video diary?” _

_ “Uh… y-yeah,” an embarrassed Peter stuttered. _

_ “It’s alright.” _

“How many times have you watched that in the last hour?”

Tony turned around to see Steve standing in the doorframe, looking on as he repeatedly played back the video.

“That’s none of your business, Cap,” he said, turning back around. “Any updates?”

“Unfortunately, no. The drones are still searching.”

Tony knew that. He had been keeping an eye on the data feed.

Steve came and leaned on the table beside Tony.

“Tony, I know this is hard for you. I know how much you care for the kid. If you need anything, just let me know.”

“I’m good, Rogers. No need for help.”

“By the looks of it, you aren’t exactly telling the truth.”

“He’s just a kid, Steve. He was a kid and he was my responsibility, and I let him wander into that. I put him in danger, and now he’s paying for it.”

Steve looked down.

“I know how it feels to blame yourself for something you can’t control. When Bucky… when he fell off the train back in ‘45, I couldn’t stop thinking about all the ways I could’ve saved him. I kept telling myself I should’ve done more, should’ve tried harder. But the truth is that hard stuff happens to the people you love, and sometimes you can’t control it, no matter what you do.” He looked over at Tony, who was staring at his computer screen, avoiding Steve’s gaze. “My point is, don’t sit here wallowing in guilt. Use that energy to find him. I know you can. If anyone can, it’s you.”

Tony closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead.

“Yeah. You’re right,” he answered, nodding. “You’re really good at pep talks, you know that? It’s like you spend time reading the Facebook posts of white PTA moms every day.”

Steve exhaled, a small laugh.

“I don’t really understand what you’re talking about, but I assume you’re probably right.”

“Yeah, I am. Definitely.”

They sat in silence for a moment, Tony gazing at the flickering video screen. Steve turned around to look at it, too.

“What is that, anyways?” He asked, nodding to where you could just barely see the blurry outline of Peter’s hand as he turned the video camera around. Tony smiled.

“Just something he made. Completely ridiculous.”

“Want some company?” Steve asked, sitting down beside Tony. “There’s nothing much we can do right now, and I’d like to see that, too.”

“I…” Tony hesitated. Peter was a touchy subject for him, and he hated oversharing on his attachment to the kid because he always felt like it would be stupid to everyone else how, out of all the people Tony had ever met, this one, dorky kid who wore velcro shoes because he didn’t know how to tie his own laces would be the one he’d get entirely and whole-heartedly attached to.

“If it’s too personal, I understand.”

“No. It’s- it’s not. Yeah. You can see it.” Tony trusted Steve. He liked Steve a lot, more than any of the other Avengers if he had to choose. There was something about him that kept him grounded. He clicked play on the video and they sat in the dim light of the lab, Steve fully immersed in Peter’s happy voice and Tony just silently glad he didn’t have to be alone in this moment.

It was only a few minutes, but it felt like hours before Tony heard FRIDAY’s voice in the room.

“Mr. Stark, Agent Romanoff is calling you to conference room B. It appears to be urgent.”

“Thanks, Fri. On my way.”

He exchanged a glance with Steve before getting up and walking with him back to the meeting area.

“Tony,” Sam said only a second after he had entered. “We’ve got something.”

***

“Seine Ausdauer ist besonders außergewöhnlich.”

“Let’s try something else.”

Peter had been cuffed to the bars of his cell, his head resting against the thick steel bars. He laid there, entirely immobile, the only thing keeping him awake being the fear buzzing in his head. His head pulsed with pain, and he felt his breathing rattle with each inhale. There was blood everywhere, too much for him to be able to determine where it was coming from. He was cold. He was tired. He wanted to close his eyes and make all the pain wash him away. He wanted it to be over.

Strucker ruffled his hair and Peter didn’t even have enough energy to shrink away from him.

“You have done well, little spider,” he said, leaning down to be at Peter’s level. “Your limits have not yet been met.”

Peter stayed quiet.

“Where are your Avenger friends, hmm? It appears they never came for you.”

_ No,  _ Peter silently agreed.  _ They didn’t. And they shouldn’t. _

Strucker took something out of another man’s hand. The room was full now, packed with people watching as Peter stayed trapped and humiliated.

“This is something that will help us truly see how much you can handle,” he said, twirling what turned out to be a syringe in his fingers.

“Don’t,” Peter croaked, lowering his head. 

“Relax, Peter Parker,” Strucker replied. “It will all be over soon.”

Peter knew there was nothing he could do. He shut his eyes tight, his lower lip quivering as Strucker bent down with the needle in his hand.

Suddenly, there was a bright white flash, and the man fell to the ground, covering his eyes with a pained shout.

“I’d get your grimy hands away from him, before I shoot them off myself.”

The voice was so familiar to Peter. He didn’t know if it was real. God, he hoped it was.

“Handle them. I’ve got the kid.”

Peter kept his eyes closed, but he could hear the angered shouts of Hydra agents combined with the sound of gunshots, thuds, and explosive blasts.

He felt hands on his back and he winced, letting out a small whimper and curling himself up even further.

“Bud, it’s me. It’s me. It’s Tony.” His hands were gentle as they propped Peter and unlocked the cuffs from his bloody wrists. Peter opened his eyes slowly to see the man, his hands shaking.

“M-Mr. Stark-”

“Shh, kid, it’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe now.” Tony wrapped his arm carefully around Peter’s chest and drew him in, taking note of how Peter exhaled sharply before relaxing against Tony’s warm body. “No one's gonna hurt you anymore.”

“Tony, we have to go.” That was Steve Rogers, hovering beside them.

“I know. Come on, kid. I’ve got you. I’ve got you, okay?”

_ He came for me,  _ Peter’s fatigued brain was saying.  _ He came. _

“Let’s get him back to the jet. Bruce and Helen are ready for when we come back.” 

Peter felt a floating sensation when he was lifted up, still being carried by Tony. He felt him running for a while, then laying him down against something warm and soft.

“I’m gonna take you home, bud,” Tony was saying.

“Mr. Stark- didn’t think- didn’t think- you’d come,” Peter breathed, and Tony softly pushed his curly, sweaty hair out of his eyes.

“Of course I came for you. I would  _ never  _ abandon you, Peter. Ever.”

“That’s really… nice t’know.”

Tony continued to scratch his head gently as Peter felt other hands on him, wiping down his bloody, battered body and wrapping him in a blanket. He felt like he could fall asleep right here, with Tony whispering gentle things to him.

“I’d never leave you alone. You may be a handful sometimes, but it doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

Peter smiled softly, and Steve did, too, sitting behind them and listening to the man’s comforting words. For Tony, it was the first time he had ever openly admitted he needed the kid. For Peter, it was the first time he had felt completely sure that Tony liked him as much as he liked Tony.

As he let his eyelids droop and the feeling of Tony’s hand against his hair spread warmth through his body, Peter fell asleep knowing he hadn’t been left alone. And Tony stayed beside him for hours after he had been treated, making sure he felt safe.

“Hey, Tony. You doing okay?”

After Peter had fallen into a peaceful slumber, Tony felt himself growing tired as well, startled when Steve knocked softly on the door.

“Yeah. I’m good.”

He nodded, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms in front of him, a position he took up quite often, Tony noticed.

“He’ll be okay,” he said quietly, and Tony nodded.

“He will.”

“He’ll be scared, but he’s really lucky to have you. Really lucky.”

Tony looked down.

“How do you know that one, Cap?”

Steve shrugged.

“Because I know you. And I know you’d give up everything for this kid.”

“I guess I would.”

Steve shot him a comforting smile and Tony returned it, leaning back in his chair.

“You’re better for him than you think, Tony. Trust me when I say we all agree he sees you like the father he never got to have.”

Tony laughed quietly.

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Well, I definitely would.” Steve replied. “Just keep doing what you’re doing for him. He’s got a long, hard path in front of him, but with you it’ll be a little bit easier.”

Tony looked down at the boy, littered with cuts and bruises but looking more at ease than he’d seen him in a while. Maybe Steve was right.

“Thanks, Cap. Means a lot, you know that?”

“I know.” Steve turned to leave. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do,” Tony said, smiling as Steve left the room.

_ It will be hard,  _ he thought,  _ but, on my life, Peter will never have to think I don’t care about him again. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it wrong that it's so easy to whump Peter Parker-
> 
> Anyways hope u enjoyed <3


	4. it's no biggie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Um, sir, what’s that?”
> 
> Tony drops the groceries onto the table, “What’s what?”
> 
> Everyone looks over at Tony and gasps. 
> 
> “Er- sir, uh, there seems to be something, um, sticking out of your side.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 4: impaling
> 
> short n sweet for u today :)
> 
> written by M

“Is Tony back yet?”

“Mr. Stark said it wouldn’t take long.”

“It was just a trip to the grocery, what’s the hold up?”

The Avengers were gathered in Stark tower after a particularly exhausting mission, they all decided to crash there and Tony went out to get food himself. Pepper offered but he insisted on it, something about how she “didn’t know his favorites”. 

Nat taps her foot impatiently, “Look I’m grateful that he wants to make food for everyone, but I’m starving and he’s not even back.”

Steve glances at the door, “He’ll be back any second just--”

As he speaks Tony struts in with groceries piled above his head. 

“Finally.” Nat mutters.

Steve pokes her, giving a disapproving look.

Peter jumps up excitedly, “Can I help, Mr. Stark?”

“Sure, kid, take that top one, will you?”

Peter rushes over to grab them but jumps back, “Um, sir, what’s that?”

Tony drops the groceries onto the table, “What’s what?”

Everyone looks over at Tony and gasps. 

“Er- sir, uh, there seems to be something, um, sticking out of your side.”

“Hmm?”

Steve stares at him, “Is that a pole?” 

Tony glances down at his torso, as if only just seeing it, “It appears so, probably from when I jumped over that fence.”

Clint shakes his head, “Why were you jumping over a fence?”

“More importantly, how did you get impaled and not notice?” Pepper gasps, on the brink of hysteria.

Tony shrugged, “They were closing the store and the fence was in my way so I just hopped it, must’ve fallen on something. It’s really not that bad.”

“Tony, there’s a pole through your stomach. _It's bad_.” Pepper tries to come and inspect the wound but he twists out of her reach.

“Hey! Chill out. It’s no biggie, it doesn’t even hurt, I can deal with it later.”

Pepper’s face looked like she was about to hurl, “Your body’s in shock, there is no way that pole is clean, for god's sake--”

Tony waves her off, making her face redden, “It’s already late enough and I’m exhausted, so Nat, Steve, come with me, we’re making dinner.”

“But--”

“Shhh no more worrying, go sit down, get a glass of wine.”

By now Pepper’s face was as red as a stop sign but she eyes his torso and gives Steve and Nat a pointed look before walking away. 

“The rest of you, stop gawking and help with the groceries.” Tony demands.

Everyone snaps out of their trance and awkwardly unloads the bags. After everything is put away properly, Tony shoos them all into the lounging area, save for Steve and Nat.

“Mr. Stark, I can help.” Peter smiles enthusiastically.

“Kid, you got a test tomorrow, and finals next week, all I want to see is you studying.”

“No, but--”

Tony wags a finger in his face, “No buts.”

Peter frowns but walks off, muttering something under his breath that Tony chooses not to hear.

“Steve get the water boiling and Nat, mash those tomatoes.”

Steve grabs a pot and starts filling it with water, “Stark, you sure you don’t wanna get that looked at?”

Tony rolls his eyes, “I really don’t know what the fuss is about. See,” he wiggles his stomach, making Steve cringe, “It’s not going anywhere.”

He just nods as he sets the pot on the stove. Tony pulls out an apron and wraps it around himself, ignoring the pole sticking out from the side. As he walks to the fridge, he hits the pole against the side, other than the unsettling ringing, he stays quiet. Nat and Steve exchange glances.

_ There is no way this could be good. _

After the sauce is made, noodles cooked, salad prepared, and pole still impaling Tony’s abdomen, dinner’s ready. He calls in the rest and sits everyone down at the long table, setting out the meal.

“It looks delicious, Mr. Stark.” Peter grins, somehow the least bothered by Tony’s predicament.

He ruffles the kid’s hair, “Thanks, go on, dig in.”

He looks at the others who either stand or are halfway into their chairs, looking at Tony like he’s a bomb about to blow. 

“Tony.” Nat says somewhat anxiously.

“I swear, if I hear you mention the pole one more time I’m gonna--”

“It’s bleeding, dumbass.”

Tony pauses, finally looking down at the thing. A wave of nausea washes over him, making him grip the chair closest to him.

“Um well…”

He swoons, suddenly light headed. Spots blur his vision, his gut turning.

“Yeah, maybe I need to get that looked at.” Tony slurs before crashing to the floor.

Nat rushes to his side, putting her fingers to his neck, “His pulse is weak.”

Bruce nudges her aside, looking around, “Someone get me paper towels, water, a sterilized needle and thread, and something for him to bite onto.”

Peter looks at Stark, wide eyed, “Shouldn’t we call the ambulance?”

Banner shakes his head, pressing his hand to the bleed, “Not enough time, how the  _ fuck  _ did this go unnoticed? I was upstairs.”

He looks around at the quiet group, “I have 7 PHDs, come on!”

Nat comes back with the supplies, “Will this do?”

Bruce sighs, “It’ll have to.”

He pushes the towels against Tony’s stomach, “When I tell you to, you’re going to pull the pole out--”

Nat stops him, “We’re pulling it out? Wouldn’t it be better to leave it in until we can assess the damage on the inside?"

“Considering he felt no pain before hand, I don’t think it hit any organs but with all this bleeding it must’ve nicked an artery. We need to pull it out now or the risk of infection is too high and his organs will be at risk. Are you going to listen to me or argue?”

She nods wordlessly, placing her hands on the pole.

“On the count of three, you are going to pull it out. Directly up, we don’t want more damage. There’s going to be a lot of blood so be ready to press some towels to it. Use the water to give me a clear view of the wound.” Bruce shoves the bit in Tony’s mouth, “I’m sorry, but this is going to hurt like hell.”

“One.”

Nat’s hands tense.

“Two.”

“Three!”

In one swift motion, she yanks it directly out, and like Banner said, it immediately began gushing. She throws the metal aside, putting towels against Tony’s stomach. As if on cue, Tony’s eyes fly open, he bites down hard on the belt to muffle his yelps. 

“Give me the needle!”

Peter jolts forward, placing the needle in Bruce’s hand. Nat splashes water on the would, giving him more clarity. To the best of his abilities he begins to stitch. Tony starts to move, writhing against his touch.

“Hold him down!”

Steve moves to him and presses his shoulders to the floor, keeping him as still as possible. 

Bruce finishes the stitch then motions to Steve, “Roll him over.”

As gently and efficiently as he could, Steve lays him on his stomach. A few painful minutes later, the wound is sealed and the bleeding stopped.

Tony sighs, spitting out the bit, “My jaw is going to hurt like hell in the morning.”

Pepper storms over, then wraps him in a hug, “God, you  _ fucking  _ dumbass. Never do that again.”

Bruce rolls his eyes, inspecting his work, “You’re going to need to go to the hospital to get this checked but from what I’m seeing, you’re all good.”

Tony swallows, putting a stupid grin on his face, “How about dinner then?”

Pepper smacks the back of his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... kudos to M for that entirely unsettling little whump, really hit the spot... anyways hope y'all are having a great day


	5. please don't (not for me)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He approaches Tony, his distorted face in a twisted form of pleasure, relishing the absolute fear in Tony’s eyes. He’s close now, Tony can feel the heat of the poker, making the hair on his arms rise.
> 
> “No!” Steve struggles against the guards, grimacing in pain, “Take me instead, you want Tony to feel real pain, take me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 5: "take me instead"
> 
> A nice dose of Stony for you today
> 
> written by M :))

Tony hums as he flips the pancakes, moving along to some unknown beat in his head. Strong arms wrap around his torso and he feels a chin on his shoulder.

“Good to see you’re up.”

Steve nuzzles his face into Tony’s neck, “I didn’t want to be, but the bacon lured me out.”

Tony laughs. Steve relishes the sound, memorizes it and imprints it in his brain, knowing all too well how little he gets to hear it. Nowadays, they barely get a moment together, much less happy ones. Missions drag them apart, the government frowns down on their choices, people rely on them to make decisions, not nearly enough time for lazy Sunday mornings. 

“Well don’t just stand around, beat those eggs.” Tony flourishes his spatula to the waiting eggs.

Steve plants a kiss on his neck before letting go. Tony continues his humming, some sort of upbeat tune that has him doing little dances as he works. Steve smiles, watching the most revered Avenger and billionaire shake his hips to a tune in his head. 

“Mr. Stark, I--”

Peter walks in but catches sight of them, shuffling his feet awkwardly.

“Um, sir, is this one of those private moments you talked about? If you and Mr- Captain Rogers are, I can leave--”

“No, kid, it’s okay.” He shoots Steve an apologetic glance, “I’ll be right there.”

“Er- okay.”

He speed walks out of the kitchen and to the lab.

Steve raises an eyebrow at his man, “It's okay?”

Tony wrings his hands, “I promised the kid he could come to help on a project, I just forgot that was today.”

“Why didn’t FRIDAY alert you that he was coming?”

“I shut her off for the morning because I wanted to give us some… privacy with no interruptions.”

Steve looks at him skeptically, “Well, go help the kid with the project.”

Tony smiles, placing a kiss on Steve’s cheek. He takes off his apron and begins to leave.

“Hey, I’m gonna want some of that privacy later.” Steve calls after him.

“Oh, don't worry about that, you’ll get it.” He winks before disappearing around the corner.

Steve chuckles, of course this was the man he loved, the selfless, snarky…

His thoughts are cut off as he gets a whiff of the burning bacon.

“Oh, hell no.”

…

“Tony, you promised.” Steve mutters into Tony’s hair, placing kisses along his jaw.

“I--I know what I said but Nat said this was an important mission.” 

“The mission can wait.” 

“But- no, fuck.” Tony couldn’t think straight when Steve was like this.

“They can start without us.”

“Steve…”

Steve sighs, pulling away reluctantly, “What is the mission, exactly?”

Tony looks away, desperately missing his warmth, “They found a heavily guarded compound that seems to be filled with alien tech from the New York attack. Something powerful is in there, or being made in there. We have to stop it before it gets out of hand.”

He rubs his brow, frowning at the floor, “Okay, I’ll suit up.”

Tony watches him leave, his heart fluttering. He felt bad that he had to cut off their few moments of intimacy but he knew, and Steve knew, this was the life they lived. Every day there’s an interruption, a disaster, or just plain life getting in the way. 

Tony shakes his head, attempting to clear his head, “FRIDAY.”

The AI responds immediately, “Yes, Mr. Stark?”

“Get my suit ready.”

…

Steve was still giving him the cold shoulder after meeting up with the team. 

“At least ten guards outside the building. We picked up several heat signatures but can’t pinpoint how many, at least fifteen, maybe more.” Natasha reports.

Steve crosses his arms, “Is it just us to take down 25 and more?” He waves his hands to Bruce, Sam, Clint, and Peter behind Nat. 

“S.H.I.E.L.D. didn’t deem it important enough to send troops. So, yes, it is just us.”

Steve nods, “Here’s the plan…”

They needed a stealthy attack on the outside guards. They couldn’t alert everyone inside, who knows the type of technology or man power they have in there? Their small group spread out, finding a guard to quietly take down so they could sneak inside and get a proper look at what they’re up against.

_ “Everyone in position?” _ Steve asks over comms.

From Tony’s standing he could see the red and blue suit creeping through the brush.

Following the chorus of confirmation, Steve responds. 

_ “Go after your intended targets, only knockouts, and make sure no one else sees you.” _

Tony takes that as the signal to go, he aims for the guard at the corner of the compound, closest to him. The man doesn’t even see him coming, a swift punch from the back of the head has him fall to the ground with a slight  _ thump _ . Tony drags him into a pile of bushes, pin pointing his next target. He then notices something…

“They’re not ordinary bodyguards, they’re wearing civilian clothing.”

Only static greets him.

“Hello? FRIDAY what’s going on?”

_ “It appears I can not reach anyone in the vicinity.” _

Tony eyes the compound, “They’re cutting off our communication.” He pauses, piecing it together. The blood drains from his face, “They know we’re here, it’s a trap.”

Before he even finishes the thought, a pulse emits from the building, shaking the ground. A deafening sound follows, blasting through the air, reverberating off the floor. Tony falls to his knees, smacking his hands to his helmet. Like a high pitch screeching, so loud he can feel it in his bones. Tony tries to stand but can’t see properly and is trembling so badly he tumbles to the side. It only gets louder making him yelp in pain. He feels blood trickle down his nose, the taste of iron in his mouth. 

He wordlessly mouths “Steve” before sinking into darkness.

…

The room is dim, light barely trickling through the barred window. Steve winces as the pain in his head returns. Chains clink against the stone floor, pinning his feet and hands to the ground. He looks around, trying to find exits or weak points in the metal. 

However, he’s interrupted by the grating of metal on stone as the door to his left swings open. 

“Good to see you’re up, Captain.”

A man Steve doesn’t recognize steps through the doorway. His suit is tailored and pristine, his beard greying but his build suggesting hard muscle under the clean outfit. 

“Who are you?” Steve gasps, his voice hoarse.

The man smiles, not a hint of warmth in his face, “Of course you don’t recognize me. I’m surprised your fiance hasn’t mentioned my name before.”

Steve keeps his face neutral, yet the man’s grin grows wider, “I bet you’re wondering about him, and the others. Don’t worry, the others were left alone, all that’s left is you and him.”

Steve swallows, “What do you want from us?”

He adjusts his cuffs, dusting off a bit of dirt, “From you? Nothing. From him… well, you’ll just have to see.”

He motions behind him and two guards appear, going to unhook his chains. The moment they’re free, Steve attempts to aim a hit at the closest one, but he yelps in pain. His muscles scream at the slightest movement, every bit of him screams at him to stop.

“I wouldn’t try to fight if I were you. After you were knocked out, we have this fancy little drug that tells your brain that every movement you make is an attack against your body, responding with extreme pain.” 

Steve breaths through his teeth, gritting them hard to ignore the sharp stabs of pain.

The guards grab him, making him move with them which causes his entire body to throb. He bites down hard so as not to scream.

The man stands just a few feet away, if only he could…

Steve lurches, aiming for the man’s throat, his whole body protests and the pain sends him to his knees. 

“Ah ah ah, that wasn’t such a good idea, was it?”

The guards drag him to his feet once again. 

“By the way, the name’s Obadiah Stane.”

The name sounds slightly familiar but that thought goes immediately out of his head when they go into the next room.

“Tony!”

…

“Tony!”

Stark cracks his eyes open at his name being yelled… by Steve?

He looks blearily around, trying to get his bearings. Chains keep him tied against a metal plank but he’s able to swivel his head. The room is large but what catches his attention is the heat coming from a large indentation in the floor a couple of feet away. The heat emitting from it creates a hazy atmosphere, making his head spin. 

“Tony.”

It comes out quieter this time, scared.

That snaps him back and he sees Steve in the doorway, held up by two guards. Then he catches sight of the man beside him.

“Hello again, Stark.” He smiles maliciously.

“I thought,” Tony swallows, his breath coming in spurts, “I thought you died.”

“Tony, who is he?” 

Tony laughs humorlessly, “Obadiah Stane. This bitch is my old man’s friend and my former business partner. He tried to take over Stark industries by selling weapons to the Ten Rings so they could assassinate me. Didn’t work out so well for him, did it?” 

All previous smugness is wiped from Stane’s face, replaced by cold fury, “Would have saved us all this trouble.”

“Yeah,” Tony breathes, wincing at the pain in his skull, “but you see, I happen to be great at making trouble. I have to keep up the reputation, you know.”

“Look where that got you.” The grim smile returns to Stane’s face, “Right back to me.”

“You want Stark Industries? You’re kinda late to the party.”

He shakes his head, “No, I want to see you  _ suffer _ , like I did.”

Tony grins, “What? Public humiliation? Been there, done that.”

Stane taps something on the side of his head, a holographic mask shimmers then disappears, revealing his marred face, “No, you are going to feel the pain of thousands of shards of glass raining down on you as you fell through floor after floor, fire enveloping you, melting your suit to your body. You are going to feel every last second of pain you caused me.” He turns and smiles crudely at Steve, “And the love of your life is going to watch.”

The blood drains from Tony’s face.

Suddenly, Steve pushes aside the guards, slamming them into the walls, he flinches at each movement but doesn’t stop. Grabbing Stane by the collar, he pushes him up against the wall, nose to nose with his horrendous face. 

“You--”

Stane smiles, “I what? Any second you’ll lose your bout of strength and be helpless to what I’m going to do. You can’t stop me.”

Just like he says, Steve’s arms go limp and the guards throw him to the ground.

The man brushes off his shoulders, “Now, shall we begin?”

He walks steadily to the heated pit, picking up a poker.

Tony shakes his head, “No.”

Stane just twirls the hot poker, the tip a bright red, “Oh, yes.”

He approaches Tony, his face distorted in a twisted form of pleasure, relishing the absolute fear in Tony’s eyes. He’s close now, Tony can feel the heat of the poker, making the hair on his arms rise.

“No!” Steve struggles against the guards, grimacing in pain, “Take me instead, you want Tony to feel real pain, take me.”

Stane halts, a horrific light coming to his eyes.

Tony makes eye contact with Steve, “No Steve, please don’t, not for me.” The end comes out in a whisper.

Steve just ignores him, “You want the great Tony Stark to truly be in pain, torture the one he loves… me.”

Stane considers it then grins, “Bring him over.”

Tony strains against his bonds, “No! You can’t do this!”

Steve kneels before the man with a flaming poker, glaring him down, not even daring to flinch.

“I’m the one you wanted! Hurt me! Get away from him!” Tony desperately pleads. 

“Maybe this will teach you a lesson, Stark,” he stares like a hungry animal at Tony’s fiance, “you should’ve given me Stark Industries when you had the chance.”

He thrusts the hot tip towards Steve’s abdomen but gets blasted back.

A bright red and blue suit swings down and knocks the two guards to the side.

“Get Tony untied, now!” Peter commands Steve.

Steve wobbles to Tony, trying to get a grip on the chains.

Stane pushes himself to his feet, holding the poker like a sword. Peter shoots a line of webs at him but he dodges, giving a jab to Peter’s chest. He spins out of the way, aiming a sharp hit to the back. 

Tony tears his eyes away from the kid battling a man easily twice his size to Steve yanking at the bonds. He spots his suit laying in pieces on a nearby table.

“Get my blaster, it’ll cut right through the chains.” 

Steve fumbles with the hand blaster, knocking over several other pieces, “How do I turn it on?”

“FRIDAY.”

The piece stutters to life, the helmet glowing as well.

Peter continues to fight Stane, going back and forth with webs and jabs. Stane is much lighter on his feet than you would think looking at him, he turns and ducks just barely out of reach while simultaneously aiming hits at Peter. 

“Here, I got it.” Steve messes with the piece of machinery, “FRIDAY, blasters.”

Upon the command all four blasters on Tony’s suit activate, sending three of them spiraling into the air. Steve keeps a grip on the one aimed at Tony’s bonds, slicing right through the metal. Tony stumbles forward and immediately ends the command. 

They turn to help Peter but find Stane hanging by his feet from the ceiling, completely covered in webs. Peter clutches a hand to his side.

“I think he got one of my ribs. Are you guys good to walk?” 

Peter’s voice is surprisingly stable, it sends a jolt of pride through Tony.

“They gave me a drug but I think it’s wearing off, I’m fine.” Even as he says it, he tenses with each movement.

Tony, though quite wobbly, reaches out his hand, “Grab my shoulder.”

“I’m fine.”

“Just grab my shoulder.”

Steve reluctantly places his arm around Tony’s shoulders, he gives out a quiet breath of relief.

“Come on, kid. Did you see anyone in the halls?”

Peter joins them, looping an arm around Tony to help him stand, “I didn’t go through the halls so I don’t know, we just have to book it. Hopefully Ms. Romanoff will meet us outside.”

“Let’s go.”

The trio hurtle through the door and down the halls, they hear a few voices but ignore them, going as fast as they can.

“There’s a fence surrounding the building, can you climb?”

Steve’s face is pale but he nods, “I think I can.”

They get outside and are greeted by a cold wind.

“Over here.”

Peter pulls them to the side of the building, a ladder leads up the side, the fence a few feet away, a tree branches out just over it.

Tony pushes Steve onto the first rung and he haphazardly makes his way up, Tony close on his heels, Peter holding up the back. The kid shoots a web to a strong branch of the tree, holding the other end.

“You’re going to have to swing over.”

“What?” Tony and Steve say in unison.

Peter puts a hand on his hip, “You got any better ideas?”

Shouts from below echo up to them and they hesitantly shake their heads. 

He hands the web to Steve, he clutches it, white in the face, then jumps off the side of the building. He swings over, just barely missing the barbed fence, then drops himself down, rolling to a stop on the grass. 

Tony checks to make sure he’s okay, then follows suit.

Peter is the last to swing over.

The sound of a helicopter approaching meets them, it hovers over their spot in the clearing, Nat hangs out the side, yelling something to the pilot.

It drops down and they go to meet it, jumping in and taking off only seconds later. 

Once safely in the helicopter, Tony envelops Steve in a hug, “You can’t ever do that again, okay?”

He says it quietly enough that only Steve can hear.

Steve hugs him back, holding on tight, “I won’t.”

“I love you.”

Steve takes Tony’s chin and makes him look into his face, “I love _you_.”

Tony smiles, leans in and gives Steve a long kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Parker means BUSINESS today y'all
> 
> Have you had enough water today? Stay hydrated!! Thanks for reading <3


	6. you, too?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What’s going on down here?”
> 
> Tony stares around, “Does everyone in this building have sleeping issues?!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 6: insomnia
> 
> Some avengers family fluff for u
> 
> written by M

Steve yawns as he makes his way to the kitchen of Stark Tower. It’s about 3 am and the rest of the Avengers sleep peacefully while he makes himself a snack. This was the routine for the past few nights. These nights were especially difficult, the nightmares so bad all he could do was distract himself with little things.

He pours himself a cup of juice then hears a noise in the living room. Steve looks up, all earlier dreariness wiped from his face. Setting the glass down, he steps agiley to the doorway without a single squeak of the wooden boards. Taking a deep breath he rounds the corner only to see… Tony plopped on the couch?

“What are you doing up?”

Tony starts, “God Cap, a little warning next time?”

Tony grabs the remote and flicks on the tv, “Couldn’t sleep, you?”

Steve drops himself next to him, “Me neither.”

“Nightmares?”

“Yep.”

He goes to Netflix, clicking through the shows, “Heard Greys Anatomy has a new season.”

Steve raises his eyebrow, “That’s still going? Well, we've gotta see what that’s about.”

“You want popcorn?”

“Oh, yeah, get the buttery kind.”

Tony walks back to the kitchen.

_ Thump! _

“Ow!”

Steve jumps up and hurries to the hallway. Tony lays on the floor with a semi-apologetic Natasha standing over him.

“Oops.”

Tony rubs his face, “What the hell was that for?”

“You can’t creep up on me like that.”

Tony pushes himself up, clearly pissed, “Doesn’t mean you have to  _ fucking  _ drop kick me.”

“Language, the old man is watching.”

Steve throws up his hands, “I said it  _ once _ .”

“What’s got you awake?”

She shrugs, “Same as always.”

A loud clatter sounds from the other side of the room. They all look up.

“Ah, hello, fellow Avengers.” 

Thor stands with a pop tart stuffed in his mouth, three more in hand.

“Why are you up?”

Thor says through crumbs, “As an Asgardian I do not require as much rest and I desired one of these pastries.”

Tony nods, “Fair enough.”

“Mr. Stark?” A sleepy voice mutters from behind them.

Everyone turns to Peter, rubbing his eyes and standing in the door frame.

“Kid, it’s past your bedtime.”

He puts his hands on his hips, “You guys are all up.”

“Well, we all have serious problems.”

Peter looks through the room, “You should probably talk about them, then.”

“We’re not gonna have some therapy session--”

“What’s going on down here?”

Bruce comes up behind Peter, disheveled hair and lopsided glasses. Bucky and Sam follow suit, all of whom look very confused. 

Tony stares around, “Does everyone in this building have sleeping issues?!”

Vision materializes through the wall, “Well, I am merely a machine, so sleep benefits me in no way.”

Wanda appears beside Sam, “Vision, what did we say about going through walls?”

“Ah, let me try again.”

This time he disappears back through the wall and walks down the hallway.

“Even with my hearing aids off I can hear the ruckus you guys are making.” Clint stands with his arms crossed next to Thor.

Tony looks around in exasperation, “Okay, why is everyone awake?”

“Nightmares?” Steve murmurs. 

This is echoed by the group.

“It’s like this feeling that you can’t save everyone, you know? You try and try and repeatedly risk your own life for everyone else’s yet somehow fail. Sometimes you’re pushed to the brink of madness cause there’s no solution, there’s no way around the pain and death that happens in your own hands. That you’re responsible for. And at night, it’s all you can think about…” Peter looks up, realizing he’s ranting, and blushes a brilliant shade of pink. 

The Avengers just nod, agreeing whole heartedly, save for the obvious concern on Tony's face.

“For me, I see my brother.” Wanda mutters, “Sacrificing himself and knowing I couldn’t save him. His blood is in my dreams and makes me wake up in a cold sweat. So, I stopped sleeping.”

Vision rubs her back comfortingly.

“When I turn over to the Hulk, there’s always that fear that I’ll lose control, if I do, innocent people get hurt. Not over something I consciously did, but over the part of me that I never asked for.” Bruce sighs, his glasses slipping down his nose.

Murmurs of agreement ripple through the room. The majority here never asked for their powers or the life they were thrown into. 

“It depends on the night but sometimes I see everyone I’ve let down, or Bucky falling out of the train and how close I was to saving my best friend, or hear Peggy’s quiet sobs as I hit the ice, or the blood on my hands after yet another innocent has been sacrificed by some twisted mind. Sometimes I can feel it dripping through my fingers, or deafening accusations that I will never be enough no matter how I change myself. It never stops, the guilt.” Steve looks at his hands as if he could picture the lives he saved and lost in them. 

“The guilt is overwhelming, it takes over every crevice in your mind, it determines how you think or act. It pushes and pushes against you, tearing away at your very being and making you believe the very worst of yourself, but somehow you can’t stop.” Tony frowns at the floor.

One by one, they each start to explain their nightmares and pain, slowly slumping onto the floor or finding spots on the counter to sit. Snacks are passed around and everyone finds a comfortable place to relieve their anxiety, whether that be laying on the tile or dangling with one leg off the fridge. 

“And how do you deal with that?” 

Nat shrugs, her foot swaying from atop the fridge, “When I was an assassin, I was a different person. I had nothing and had never known what it was like to belong somewhere, it made me ignorant to what I could have and achieve.”

Tony props himself on his elbows from the floor, “But how do you deal with the bloodshed? Like, yes, you were a different person, but you still did it.”

“I know that I can’t change what I did and I’ve made my peace with that.”

Tony lays back down, arms crossed behind his head, “Huh.”

“How I’m able to ignore my old faults or mistakes is to know that I’ve improved since then and no longer make those mistakes.” Clint speaks up.

“Distraction is helpful too, when you’re busy doing things you like, or just busy, it’s harder to think about it.” Peter says, sitting haphazardly upside down in his chair. 

Sam nods from his spot on the counter, Bucky leaning against him, “I heard that doing random things just because you want to can be helpful, like following your impulses.”

Bucky chimes in, lifting his head off Sam’s shoulder, “That’s a good one, like waking up at the crack of dawn just because you wanna see the sunrise.”

“Starting a new hobby because it just sounds cool.” Nat adds.

“Hitting someone 'cause they pissed you off.” Tony mutters.

“Eating the entire fridge just 'cause.” Steve notes.

Everyone chuckles, smiling wide.

Thor laughs, “You mortals have funny conversations.”

“Solutions to our problems? Is that a funny topic?” Peter genuinely asks.

Steve, laying on Tony’s stomach, looks inquisitively at the god, “You don’t have problems that need solutions?”

He smiles, “I have problems, but your flimsy minds could not possibly understand.”

Clint grins, “Try us.”

Thor shrugs, “Okay, then. My brother was secretly a frost giant and found out in the worst way possible and tried to destroy Asgard in the process of getting revenge on our father. He then died falling into an abyss. But he wasn’t really dead, I found out when he attempted to take over this feeble planet. Later on, he died again. But he came back and when I left, attempting to escape a prophecy, he invaded Asgard and banished our father and disguised himself as him, creating ridiculous plays of his heroic acts and making a giant golden statue. I uncovered his identity and made him escort me to our father in Norway. Odin then fell apart in gold dust and my sister I did not know I had appeared in a portal. My brother and I then had to battle her and I lost my hammer, it was a very special hammer, and I got thrown onto an unknown planet where I was forced to battle Bruce and we escaped with a rock man and a large maggot in a rebellion. Bruce, Valkyrie, and I then had to destroy Asgard, my sister along with it.”

A few moments of silence pass as he finishes his story.

Tony rolls his eyes, “Family issues, we’ve all been there.”

“My mom died when I was a kid.”

“My parents got killed by bombs.”

“I haven’t seen my family in ages.”

“My parents died in a plane crash.”

“My dad was abusive.”

“Both of my parents died.”

“My dad was a drunk and abusive.”

Thor goes wide eyed, “Hmm, maybe you people do have issues.”

“Damn right we do.” 

Tony starts to laugh, then Steve, then Nat, soon the entire room is bursting with giddiness. Peter almost crashes off his chair after going to clutch his stomach, giggling so hard he’s shaking. The display of clumsiness only makes everything so much funnier. 

Nat wipes her eye, gasping between breaths, “Hey, where’s Scott?”

Everyone exchanges eye contact, laughter dying down.

“We should look for him.” Steve says.

Tony nods, “Yeah, make sure he’s okay.”

They split up, concern slowly ebbing away at their previous happy moods. 

“I found him!” Nat calls down the hall.

They all rush over to see…

Scott lays in his bed, cartoonish pajamas on, and drool dripping onto his pillow, the steady sound of snoring filling his room. The first rays of sunlight peak through his window. He sleepily opens his eyes to see the Avengers staring at him in his doorway.

He glances at the clock, “What’s going on? It’s 6 am.”

“So I guess not all of us have sleeping problems.” Tony mutters. 

They disperse with grumbles of annoyance but mostly little giggles to their rooms to try and catch an hour or two of rest, leaving an extremely confused Scott behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a nice day :)


	7. don't lose yourself, kid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Little Penis Parker decided to come to the big kids' party and get himself totally hammered to make an impression, didn't he?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 7: poisoning
> 
> Slight TW for alcohol
> 
> written by me :)

“Peter, come on. It’s just a party. You gotta loosen up a little at some point, man.”

Peter shook his head, adamant in his refusal.

“No, Ned. I don’t care about some stupid party, even if it’s Liz’s. What if something happens, and I’m too busy having fun to help-”

Ned laughed, shaking his head.

“Nice try, Peter, but I know that isn’t the real reason.”

“Yeah, it is,” Peter insisted, but his cheeks were turning pink. He didn’t want to go because he didn’t want to make a fool of himself one way or another. Plus, even though Liz was going to be there, so was Flash Thompson.

“You’re gonna be okay. You’re coming with me.”

“Am not.”

“Are, too.”

“Am not.”

“Popularity is just a social construct, dork,” MJ was standing over him now, and she knocked the back of his head with her hand before sitting down at the lunch table.

“Ow!”

MJ smirked.

“Besides, maybe you do need to get that stick out of your ass just a little bit.”

“There is  _ no  _ stick up my ass.”

MJ exchanged a glance with Ned before frowning and shaking her head, gesturing towards Peter.

“There is definitely a stick up your ass.” She leaned over, staring down at her brown lunch tray. “Even I’m going, only because it’s fun to watch all the boys make complete idiots of themselves when they get drunk as hell.” She grinned. “Just proves how stupid boys are.”

Peter groaned.

“Of course. Lucky for you, though, I couldn’t get drunk if I tried.”

“You sure about that?” Ned asked, cocking his head to the side. “It’s not like you’ve ever tested it out before.”

He was egging Peter on, but he didn’t care.

“Ned, I know I can’t. My metabolism’s too fast.”

“Prove it.”

Peter rolled his eyes, giving in more quickly than he would’ve liked.

“Fine. Fine! You got me. I’ll go to this stupid party and I’ll show you exactly what I mean. Liz is gonna be there, anyways.”

“ _ Liz is gonna be there anyways, _ ” Ned mimicked, making MJ snort. “You and Liz. She’s a senior, Peter; I hate to break it to you, but you have much better options right in front of you.”

“Uh-huh, and where are they exactly?” Peter replied, oblivious to the way MJ’s smile faded as he said it. Ned shook his head, shooting her an apologetic glance.

“I’m picking you up at 7, ‘kay?” he said, and Peter knew the deal had been sealed. He was going to this party now, whether he wanted to or not.

_ Well, maybe this’ll be my chance to make a good impression on Liz. Or even ask her to homecoming. _

“Yeah. Seven.”

***

“A party? That sounds exciting, kid.”

“Yeah… not really.”

Tony looked up from where he was bent over at a cluttered table, tapping delicately on a small component of the visual display in Peter’s suit.

“When I was your age, I went to lots of parties. Made lots of stupid decisions, too.” He smiled jokingly. “But, I must admit, I was pretty damn liked.”

“Of course you were. You’re you.”

“Regardless, just have some fun, Pete. You gotta loosen up a little.” Peter rolled his eyes at the statement as Tony stood up straighter, waving the small tool in his hand at the kid. “But no alcohol or drug-doing, got it? I don’t care how much you think you can handle, that’s just irresponsible. If you go around making dumb choices, it’ll be your ass  _ and _ mine.”

"Got it, Mr. Stark."

After walking out of Stark Industries and taking the train home, he placed down his school stuff to get ready for the party.

_ What should I even wear?  _ He frowned, staring into his closet, which was primarily filled with t-shirts donned with stupid math puns or Stark Wars graphics.  _ Don't want to make a fool of myself in front of Liz. _

He settled on a plain, grey long-sleeved shirt and a blue flannel jacket, pairing it with tighter jeans than he usually wore and his nicer sneakers.

_ Sure, _ he said to himself, combing out his hair in the mirror.  _ This isn't too humiliating. _

"Peter, you ready? Ned's here!" May knocked on the bathroom door, startling Peter. He finished doing his hair and walked out to see May and Ned waiting in the living room.

"Oh, don't you look nice," May teased slightly, shooting Peter a mischievous smile as she spun the car keys in her hand. "Got a hot date to impress?"

"God, May." Peter replied, but he was struggling to control the heat in his cheeks.

"What? I'm just supporting your confidence. Ned said you needed some more of it."

Peter chose to ignore that statement, instead putting on an extra jacket and leaving the apartment.

"Remember, no stupid stuff in there, got it?" May reminded them both as soon as they had pulled up to the house. "If you see kids getting into trouble and wanna get out of there, just call me, 'kay?"

"Yeah. Love you, May!" Peter hopped out of the car.

"Love you, too!"

The sound of blaring music overwhelmed Peter's sensitive ears as soon as the door was opened for them. He winced, trying to cover up the pain from the sudden overload when he saw Liz's smiling face.

"Hey, guys! Glad you made it!"

"H-hey, Liz," Peter stuttered, shooting her an awkward smile as she let them inside. She stood in front of them, and Peter did his best to keep his cool. She looked good, in a  _ very  _ short black dress and black, ankle-length laced boots.

"There's drinks and food in the kitchen. Games in the living room over there-" she said, gesturing to where a crowd of people had congregated. "Let me know if you need anything!"

"Yeah- yeah, thanks," Peter said, and, as she turned and walked away, he mentally kicked himself for not saying anything else to her. Ned nudged his shoulder.

"Hey, if you're done looking like a lost puppy, let's go find MJ."

"Uh-huh. MJ."

She was sprawled out on an armchair with a couple other people next to her, a half-empty cup in her hand.

"Hey, dorks. Glad you could make it. We were just about to play a round of truth or dare." She nodded towards her group of friends. "That's Betty, Gwen, and Miles."

"Er, hey, guys-"

"Hey, look, everyone, Penis Parker is in the  _ house _ !"

Peter groaned. This was exactly what he had been worried about. Flash came up behind him, patting his back so hard Peter stumbled forward.

"What's up, Penis?" He sneered. "Didn't think you'd have the balls to show up to this party. Especially, since, you know, you're totally in love with  _ Liz _ ." He said it loudly, and a few others in the room snickered. Peter wanted to sink into the floor.

"Maybe this is your chance to lighten up. Have a few drinks, yeah? Maybe you'll finally realize you're too much of a loser to be hanging out with some senior girl."

"Hey, shut up, Flash," MJ said, and he rolled his eyes.

"Seriously, Penis. You're telling me your plan was just to sit here and make googly eyes at her all night?"

"No, it wasn't." Peter balled his fist, exhaling sharply to try and relieve his frustration. The insanely loud music and background chatter of his surroundings were doing nothing to help. He brushed past Flash into the kitchen, looking for something. Ned ran in behind him.

"Peter, what are you doing?"

"Getting a drink."

"You told me you couldn't get drunk."

Peter laughed.

"So? All the more reason to see the stupid look on Flash's ugly face when I chug an entire fucking bottle of vodka in front of him."

"You don't have to prove yourself to Flash, Peter. What I said before was just joking around." Ned eyed him nervously as he rummaged through Liz's cabinets, ignoring the beer bottles on the counter. "I don't think this is a good idea."

Peter had found what he was looking for.

"Hey, Penis! Thought you ran off!" Flash said as he walked back into the room, pushing past people who shot him dirty glances or giggled at him under their breath. Peter didn't care. He was pissed off.

He opened the bottle of whiskey in his hand, staring directly at Flash before putting it to his mouth, much to the surprise of the older boy.

God, it  _ burned.  _ It took everything in him not to spit it out, or just puke on the floor. Truthfully, the only time Peter had ever had alcohol was when May let him drink a glass of champagne one New Year's Eve. It stung his throat, the feeling lingering.

"Woah, Parker," MJ said, standing up to try and take the bottle out of his hands. "Slow the hell down."

"How is it, Penis?" Flash grinned. "Not the usual chocolate milk in a sippy cup you're used to, eh?"

"Shut the fuck up, Thompson," MJ said again. Luckily, not many people were paying attention, and the ones that were only laughed as they watched the scene unfold.

Peter took another sip, a larger one this time. He didn't care about Flash. He just noticed Liz walking into the living room, staring wide-eyed as he continued to down the bottle of liquor.

"Jesus christ, Peter," she said. "You're really getting into it, aren't you?"

To his satisfaction, she had a soft smirk on her face. His throat hurt and his eyes watered, but he continued to drink. When Ned came up and snatched the bottle out of his hands, he reached out for it, narrowing his eyes at him.

"Give it back, Ned."

"No, Peter. I don't give a shit about how many people you're trying to impress right now. You're done. This stuff is poisonous, and you're just dumping it all into yourself at once!"

He became even more irritated when Ned's statement caused more people to whisper among themselves. It was as if  _ everyone  _ here saw him as nothing more than the dorky, annoying child. Was it just him, or was there a strange buzzing in his head?

"Leave me alone."

Peter pushed his way back through the crowd, this time much more aggressively, and found himself in an empty bathroom. He had hated the taste of the alcohol, but it had felt so  _ good  _ to see everyone around him getting impressed, surprised by the innocent Peter Parker taking a rebellious turn.

His head was definitely buzzing.

There was a cup on the table, filled with a different dark brown liquid he assumed to be another alcohol, and he drank it all without thinking, gasping as he finished and leftover liquid dribbled down his chin. He leaned over the sink, screwing his eyes shut tight.

_ Dammit, Peter, you're not drunk. Get a hold of yourself. _

He needed more. Leaving the bathroom, he stumbled into the kitchen which, thankfully, was empty save for a few unfamiliar faces. He grabbed a cup and dunked it into the bowl of liquid on the table, downing it in seconds. Peter Parker was not a loser. He was not a fucking  _ child,  _ who needed to be coddled and babysat by all his so-called friends.

"Goddammit, Peter! Stop it!" He felt Ned's hand on his wrist, but he jersey away. "Fuck, are you  _ drunk _ ? You said-"

"I'm not drunk."

He was definitely drunk. The floor was spinning beneath him, but he just grabbed another full cup and walked away.

"Peter, stop it!"

"Hey, Peter."

Ned and Peter both stopped in their tracks when they were met with Liz, standing in the doorway of the kitchen. God, she looked  _ hot  _ to Peter right now. He felt his skin heating up.

"Hi, Liz."

"Maybe you should come join me and my friends. If he's bothering you."

Peter blinked, his mind a jumbled mess. Ned stood behind him, waiting.

"Yeah. I'll come with you." He smiled at her. "Thanks, Liz."

"No problem."

He numbly let Liz lead him to a bit of a quieter area, ignoring Ned's frustrated sigh, where an assortment of people were sitting around a table.

"Sup, Penis. Heard you made it to the big kids club."

"Flash, be nice."

Peter felt himself too slow to even react to the comment. As someone handed him another cup he took it, taking gulps of it as he sat down beside Liz.

"Hey, Parker, why haven't we hung out before this? You're a pretty cool guy," said the boy in front of him, who he recognized to be Brad Davis, the hockey team captain.

"Dunno," Peter said, only half-joking,"maybe 'cause the last time we talked, you threatened to dunk my head into the dumpster if I tried to one-up you on a math test again."

Brad laughed nonchalantly.

"Ah, yeah. I was only joking!"

Peter ignored him, taking another sip of whatever was in his cup. It didn't burn so much anymore, and his brain felt sluggish.

After a few minutes of sitting with Liz and her friends, doing his best to ignore their backhanded remarks, Peter began to feel incredibly sleepy.

_ I can't get drunk,  _ he kept repeating to himself.  _ I'm not drunk. I'm just tired. _

"Hey, Peter, wanna go upstairs for some privacy?"

That was Liz. When Peter looked around the table, he realized Brad, Flash, and a couple others had disappeared.

"Where'd… everyone… go?" he asked, squinting around as if he thought his vision as just so bad he couldn't see them. Liz waved her hand.

"I think they went to get more drinks. Come on."

She tugged on Peter's arm and he stood up, nearly falling on his face as a wave of nausea washed over him. Fuck, he felt like shit. But Liz wanted to go upstairs with him and, to Peter's woozy mind, that was all that mattered.

_ Party. Liz. Upstairs. Impress Liz. Privacy. _

She led him up the stairs and Peter nearly stumbled into the couple sitting at the top, kissing heatedly. The music was quieter up here, but Peter still felt like his ears were ringing. 

"Let's go in here," she said, opening the door to a large, nice bedroom. He walked in, turning around to see her standing in the doorway, a slight, almost pitiful smile on her face.

"Oh, Peter Parker," she spoke softly, and Peter felt his stomach drop. "You really shouldn't have come to this party."

She closed the door.

"Wait-"

"Hey, Penis!"

_ Fuck. No. _

Peter didn't turn around, he just wobbled to the doorknob and tried to turn it, but is was locked from the outside. He rested his head against the door as he felt the footsteps growing closer.

_ Peter. Think. Think. _

He couldn't think, though. His powers were going all over the place, his strength fizzling out as soon as he wriggled the doorknob in his hands. When he felt the blow to the back of his head, knocking his face against the door, he shouted out in pain.

"Little Penis Parker decided to come to the big kids' party and get himself totally hammered to make an impression, didn't he?" Flash said. Peter turned around slowly to face him and the three other people in the room, the only other familiar face being Brad. "You chose the wrong night for that."

He kicked Peter hard in the stomach before using his hand to slam his head back against the door. Peter blinked, trying to get the white stars out of his eyes. He wanted to hit them, to kick them back, but he couldn't pinpoint Flash's body and he couldn't react quickly enough to land anything.

"You shouldn't be trying to go for a girl who's already been taken, you little shit. You mess with my girlfriend, I'm  _ more  _ than happy to mess with you."

"Liz… your girlfriend?"

Brad snickered, and Flash rolled his eyes.

"Yes, dumbass. You're a slow one, aren't you?"

He shoved Peter into the wall and hit him squarely in the face as Peter let out another shout. When Flash backed up, Peter felt a sting and the warmth of fresh blood dripping into his mouth, its coppery scent making his head feel even lighter than it already had. He sank to the floor, much to the satisfaction of the boys standing over him.

"Hey, what do you say we teach Penis here a lesson?" Flash still had the devilish grin on his face.

"Flash- don't-" Peter said, but it was becoming more and more hard for him to talk as the alcohol took over his mind and his body, leaving him helpless.

Brad kicked Peter this time, sending another wave of pain through him, then he was being pummeled by all of them, holding his hand over his head as they mercilessly beat on him, hands flying so hard and so fast that Peter felt the skin on his cheek split, and one of his ribs crack. Flash was at the forefront of the pile, shouting insults at Peter as he let the punches rain down.

"Stay the  _ fuck  _ out of my way, Parker," he kept saying, "You're just getting what you deserve."

Peter stayed curled up in the fetal position.  _ I could fall asleep right here,  _ he thought, as his eyelids drooped. Peter didn't really feel the pain of all his injuries yet. He just felt so sleepy…

"Jesus  _ fucking  _ christ, Thompson!"

MJ, Ned, and her friends from before had entered the room, probably stirred up by all of the noise. She grabbed Flash by the hair and pulled him backwards as hard as she could, and he gave a sharp, angry yelp in response. She slammed him into the floor, much harder than Peter would've expected, while others formed a defensive circle around him.

"I'm calling the fucking cops," MJ said, her foot placed on Flash's chest. He continued to yell indignantly, cursing at everyone in the room. Ned bent down over Peter.

"And  _ I'm  _ calling Tony Stark. Give me your phone, Peter."

When Peter didn't move, Ned sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone, the screen now shattered. Peter shifted his position so he was laying flat on his back, closing his eyes to try and control the unrelentless spinning of his head.

"Ned… 'm sorry," he murmured. Ned ignored him, putting the phone up to his ear. MJ was already on the phone with the police.

"Hi, Mr. Stark? I need you to come and get Peter." He waited for a moment. "Yes. No. Yeah, he is. Yeah, it's bad. I'll send you the address."

A few minutes later, Peter felt himself being lifted up by Ned and MJ and carried out of the house and down the street to avoid the cops who were pulling up to Liz's house.

"Are you sure we shouldn't let him stay with the police, Ned?"

"Trust me, Mr. Stark is a better option. If Peter ends up in a hospital, it could cause… complications. I'd rather not risk his identity going out to the world."

"Yeah. You're right."

They set Peter down on the curb, sitting on either side of him to keep him up. He found himself leaning his head against MJ's shoulder. She didn't refuse.

"You guys… you guys are the best," he mumbled. His words were laced with exhaustion and brain felt fogged up.

"You're an absolute idiot, Parker, and we're gonna talk about that when you're better," MJ scolded, and Ned nodded in agreement.

"Sorry. Sorry." He swallowed, closing his eyes. "Didn't need to… come save me. I deserved it."

"No one deserves to be hurt like that, Peter," Ned replied. "You didn't know. And Flash is a cold-hearted dick. It's not your fault."

"Shouldn't've trusted them."

"You're drunk off your ass, Parker, and any normal person probably would've been dead by now," MJ scoffed. "You couldn't tell an elephant from a lion if we had asked you."

"Mr. Stark… gonna kill me." Peter felt tears welling up in eyes. "Gonna take away my suit."

"No, he isn't. He's not like that. You did something stupid, and you're probably gonna get in some major trouble, sure. But he'll understand. If he doesn't, we'll make him see."

"Thanks, M."

Peter had dozed off when Happy pulled up, so Ned and MJ lifted him into the car themselves. Everything faded to darkness for Peter the ringing in his ears going away as he felt himself being settled against the soft car cushions and heard Ned and MJ whispering little good-byes, telling him to get some rest. Then he fell asleep completely.

***

When he woke up, his head was  _ pounding.  _ It hurt way more than anything from last night. He tried to sit up, but a shock of pain sent him heaving for breath, and he realized it was his entire body that felt like it was on fire.

"Fuck-" he said, rolling over and curling up into a ball. His bare chest had been wrapped in bandages, and so had his wrist, which he assumed he had sprain sometime last night.

"Watch your mouth, kid. Cap could be watching."

Tony's familiar face became visible to Peter, standing over him with a glass of water.

"Here. Drink this," he said, giving Peter the water and two small, round pills, which he swallowed gratefully. Tony sat down on the bed beside Peter, staring at him.

"You and I need to talk."

Peter lifted himself up, resting against the pillow. The movement made him dizzy, and his head felt like it was made of lead.

"I- I know," he said, blinking back the tears caused by the pain.

"You've got yourself one hell of a hangover, there, Pete." Tony stood up. "Lemme go see if there's any leftover breakfast. Then we'll handle this."

He came back a while later with a plate of eggs and bacon in his hand. By that time, luckily, the pain in his head had begun to decrease because of the medication, but his chest still stung with each movement. His arms were littered with dark, purple bruises, and Peter was certain his face didn't look much better. He began to eat the food offered by Tony, having to take each bite as slowly as possible because even his jaw felt sore. Tony watched him, and Peter prepared himself for what he knew was coming.

"You know, you're  _ extremely  _ lucky you have such good friends, or you might've died last night."

Peter stayed quiet, staring down at his plate to let Tony talk.

"I mean, what the hell were you  _ thinking _ ? I specifically told you no alcohol. Your friend Ned said you thought you couldn't get drunk and that, Peter Benjamin Parker, was a pretty dumb thought to have. Just because you have an enhanced metabolism doesn't mean you can't get drunk at all, it just means it takes quite a bit more alcohol. And, from what I hear, you had that quite a bit and then some."

Peter winced. That meant Ned had probably told him about everything.

"When you drink, you can't think straight. It causes you to make stupid decisions. Trust me, I've been there. But what your friends were too scared to tell me was why you got beat up. You look like shit, kid. I'm just gonna say it."

Peter sighed, wondering if he should tell Tony the whole truth.

_ I've probably already lost his trust. How much worse can it get? _

"I- I wanted to impress someone. This girl," Pete Regan, and Tony rubbed his forehead, like he knew where this was going. "And there was this other guy there. Um- Flash. And, uh, well, I drank a lot at first, yeah, but I wasn't planning to drink any more. But… it got into my head. And the girl- Liz- she asked if I wanted to go upstairs with her."

"So Flash, as in the guy who's always bullying you?"

"Yeah- wait- who told you that?"

Tony shrugged. "Like I said, you've got good friends."

"Er- anyways, I thought it was really nice that they were all talking to me. I thought- i thought they were doing it 'cause maybe they actually liked me. It felt nice to be liked by them. The popular kids, you know? So- so when Liz said we should go upstairs, I didn't- I don't know what I was doing, but I was excited about it. Like you said, I couldn't think."

"Jesus, kid."

"A-and then we got up there, and she locked me in with Flash and his- his friends and they- they-"

Tony put his head in his hands, groaning.

"He said it was to- teach me a lesson. Not to get in his way. I- I didn't know what was happening. I wanted to stop it, but I couldn't."

"What a fucking bastard," Tony said, quietly, before looking at Peter and sighing. "Kid, come here."

Peter lifted himself up, caught off guard as Tony gingerly wrapped his arm around his shoulder.

"There are some fucked up people you're gonna meet in life, bud. People who won't accept you for who you are. But you  _ never  _ have to go out of your way to impress anyone because you feel like you aren't good enough or well-liked, got it? What you did, if I put it frankly, was reckless and you weren't thinking about the consequences of it. And some kids took advantage of that. As messed up as it is, I really hope you've learned that you don't need to do dumb things to get people to like you. Not everyone is going to like you, Peter; that's just a fact of life. And don't worry about Flash, I'll handle him."

"No, you don't need to-"

"Hey, kid, don't worry about it, okay?" Tony looked at Peter, who was sniffling slightly. "You've just gotta get your own shit figured out. I already told May, so she'll have some choice words for you, too, but we were both worried about you." He ruffled Peter's hair. "And I'm sorry you had to go through that with those kids. It was their choice to take advantage of you, so that blame falls on them. And hey," he nudged Peter. "You're a great kid. Don't let anyone make you believe any differently. I mean, you're literally a superhero. No high school bully could ever meet those standards."

Peter released slightly into Tony's chest.

"Mr. Stark, you're not gonna take away my suit are you?"

"Don't think I could if I tried. You are, however, grounded from movie nights for a month."

"But-" Peter's head shot up. "But those are so much fun! I get to hang out with the Avengers; come on!"

"Hey, I'm a chill guy, but May will kill me if she hears I let you get off scot-free."

Peter groaned, making Tony laugh.

"You get some rest, kid," he said, standing up. Though Peter was disappointed when Tony moved away from him, he felt better knowing he still liked him, as much as he had screwed up. When he opened the door, he revealed two more smiling faces.

"Oh, and I thought you might like the company."

"Hey, Peter! I brought over a bunch of games. Didn't know what you would like. Mr. Stark said you need to stay in bed for a while." Ned was rambling, but Peter didn't care. He let him and MJ come sit on his bed.

"Hey, dork. How you feeling?"

"Uh, a little shitty, to be honest."

"Yeah, that's what I expected." MJ laughed slightly. "Glad your drunk ass got back safe."

"Glad I had you to save my drunk ass," Peter replied, grinning. 

"Yeah, yeah." She waved her hand, but it was with a smile. Ned set his backpack down on the bed.

"So are we gonna do something, or are you two gonna continue making googly eyes at each other?"

"Shut up, Leeds," MJ replied, earning a lighthearted laugh from Peter.  _ These  _ were his real friends. And he wouldn't let himself forget it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not me making myself hate flash even more :/ yikes
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	8. you'll be home by midnight, I swear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint sighs, “Fine, but if you get me killed, I’m coming back to haunt you.”
> 
> Nat smiles wide, “Looking forward to it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 8: "hey, hey, this is no time to sleep."
> 
> Can Natasha Romanoff just marry me already, thanks
> 
> written by M :)

“You know I’m supposed to be retiring, Nat.”

“Come on, it’s one more mission. Don’t you wanna end it on a good note?”

Clint tries to move around her, “I want to end it seeing my kids, my wife.”

Natasha moves to block him, placing her hand on the doorway, “This is a lowkey mission, just busting down some druggies. It’s nothing major, you’ll see your family at the end of the day.”

He pushes her arm down, “I can’t risk it.”

“It’ll be quick, in and out. You’ll be home by midnight, I swear.”

“We already had Sokovia, I think that’s a pretty badass note to leave on. I can already feel tension rising with all of the Avengers and I’m not here for that, I need to stay alive.”

“Sokovia was a tragedy, even when we did the best we could, do you really want to leave with that on your conscience? We can do this one, small mission that is a very common problem in modern day society.” 

He pauses.

“Please, one last fight with us together.”

Clint sighs, “Fine, but if you get me killed, I’m coming back to haunt you.”

Nat smiles wide, “Looking forward to it.”

…

It’s late afternoon, and the sun sets behind the New York skyline, the sky cast with various blues and oranges. Clint and Natasha approach a beat up warehouse.

“What’s the info?”

Nat clears her throat, “Two drug dealers reported by some locals, selling illegal substances to whoever will buy them. Unfortunately, that seems to be teenagers.”

Clint frowns, “Okay, what’s the plan?”

“We sneak up, break in, and take them in. Try to be as quiet and quick as possible. There should only be the two inside.”

Clint takes his bow in his hands, “Okay, let’s go.”

Nat gives him a mischievous grin and they continue their approach to the warehouse.

They get close enough to hear two voices, assumingly from men, coming from the cracked door.

“... how many of these are we putting out?”

“Boss said at least 30.”

“30?! Does he know how much of this we have? If we transfer 30 that depletes our stock--”

“Hey, if you want to bring it up with him, that’s your funeral.”

The two voices bicker back and forth.

Clint raises a questioning eyebrow at Nat.

_ This does not sound like drugs they're selling. _

She wordlessly pulls up some stats from her wrist gadget and presents them to him. It shows an elevated radiation level and detects small tremors emitting from the ground. 

_ What could be in there? _

Before he has time to analyze it, someone from inside suddenly halts the argument.

“Do you hear something?”

“We are stationed in an old building with ancient floorboards, it was probably a rodent or whatever.”

Natasha nods to Clint.

She jumps forward and kicks down the door.

Two men stand in the middle of the room with a large table stacked with weapons. The bigger of them grabs the nearest weapon and aims a shot at the scary assassin running for him. They expect to see a bullet come out but instead a ball of sonic energy shoots for Nat’s stomach, she twists just barely out of range, watching the thing hit the wall and disintegrate the boards.

“Oh cool!” The man says excitedly, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Hmm, you shouldn’t play with toys you don’t understand.” Clints scoffs, shooting an arrow at the second man. 

It pins his jacket to the far wall where he’s too stunned to even move. 

When Clint turns back to Nat he sees her kick the gun out of the man’s hands and punch him in the stomach. He doubles over, throwing his arms around himself. In his moment of weakness, she kicks him hard in the face, sending him flying back. He hits the floor, unconscious. 

Clint walks to the man pinned to the wall, “What is this stuff?”

Nat picks up one of the various weapons, inspecting them.

“I- I can’t tell you.” He stutters.

Clint gets a better look at him, he looks young, maybe 18 or 19, fresh out of highschool. His thick framed glasses, collared shirt, sweater vest, definitely don’t scream drug addict or weapons dealer.

“How’d someone like you get here?”

“I- I don’t know. It started as a project for a guy, somehow turned into th- this.” 

“Who’s your boss?”

He shakes his head, “I can’t- can’t tell you.”

“What _can_ you tell me?”

“Clint.”

He turns to Natasha who holds a glowing piece of machinery in her hands, “What?”

“It’s alien tech.”

The kid is shaking so badly now, murmuring something under his breath.

“What is it?” Clint demands.

“Nine… eight…”

“What’s he saying?” Nat calls over.

“Seven… six…”

“He’s counting down.”

The pieces suddenly come together, “Get out, NOW!”

Nat catches on, jumping over the table, grabbing the man on the floor by his waist and dragging him to the door.

“Five…”

Clint rips the kid down from the wall.

“Four…”

He throws him over his shoulder, turning to run.

“Three…”

He can hear the warning beep now from somewhere in the building.

“Two…”

He pumps his legs, going as fast as he can away.

“One.”

Right on cue, the warehouse explodes in hot flames. The blast is so powerful it throws Clint forward. Everything seems to go in slow motion, he feels the weight come off his shoulders as the kid is tossed from him. He sees the orange and red flash against the twilight sky. Then he smacks his head on the ground, a sharp pain ripping through his skull, a dull buzzing rings in his ears.

Natasha rushes to Clint’s limp body, shaking her head, “No, no, no.”

He blinks, staring blankly at the grass, blood trickling down his temple.

Darkness seems so comforting right now, all he wanted to do was sink into its awaiting arms. The warmth of the raging fire heats his skin but it only makes the dark so much more relaxing, like a blanket wrapped around him before he goes to rest.

She checks his pulse, trying to keep his eyelids open, “Hey, hey, this is no time to sleep.”

He tries to ignore her pleading voice, the hint of iron in her words but yet so very desperate. 

The cool welcome of the dark wraps around him but before he can completely plunge into it, another voice, smaller and seemingly insignificant, calls out to him.

“Dad, stay awake.”

Maybe it was a hallucination, but he clings onto the voice.

“Don’t go.”

He tries to claw himself out of the darkness, towards his little girl’s voice. He wants to shout her name, but nothing comes out. 

“Don’t leave me.”

Tearing away at every black corner of his mind, he tries to reach her, ripping away the shreds of this black hole.

Then…

Light, heat, grass pressing between his fingers, a foul stench in his nose, the iron taste of blood in his mouth, hands on his chest.

His eyes flutter open, searching for his daughter, but the voice is gone, only pain greets his awakening. 

“Oh thank god.” 

Natasha comes into his view.

“Some lowkey mission.” Clint mutters sarcastically.

She smiles, “Where does it hurt?”

He props himself on his elbow, his entire body barking with pain, “Everywhere.”

She scans him up and down, concerned.

Clint gets a better look at his injuries, “It’s fine, most of it is shallow, I think I might have a concussion. But go check on the kid, he got thrown so he might be a lot worse off.”

Nat gives him a side glance but leaves him to tend to the others.

Of course, he had lied. His ribs were definitely broken and burns peppered the back of his legs and arms. About 50% of his pants had been burned off, leaving the skin beneath red and irritated. He was most worried about his head; the ringing in his ears would not stop and grew even more painful with each pulse of his heartbeat. However, he was more worried about the guy that got tossed from him.

Clint tries to sit up further but his entire body screams at him to stop, the corners of his vision going blurry. Pushing past it, he gets to an upright position, then to his knees. Black dots spot his vision, the pain momentarily ceases. In his second of recovery, he stands.

_ Bad idea. _

His legs give out, the whole world crashing down. By the time he hits the ground, he’s out. 

…

  
  


_ Beep. beep. beep. _

Clint cracks his eyes open to the sound of a heart monitor. However, he’s not in a hospital bed, he lays in his room in Stark Tower. He looks around groggily to see he's hooked up to a heart monitor and IV but other than that, the room looks completely normal. Considerably bare, since he hadn’t been here in months, but normal.

He tries to prop himself up, but his cracked ribs makes him yelp before slumping back down.

“No, you stay right there.” Nat comes through the door with a coffee in hand.

“What happened?” Clint asks, breathing through the ache.

“After you passed out,” she gives him a pointed look, clearly pissed he didn’t tell her the extent of his injuries, “I got both guys patched up and sent to interrogation. We were able to get enough information to pinpoint where the manufacturing faculty is and where the “boss” is, he’s still anonymous. Stark is going to help and we’re going to go shut it down.”

Clint tries to get up again, “When are you going? It’ll only take me a minute to--”

Nat pushes him down by his shoulders, making him bite down on his lip so as not to scream, “No, you are not coming with us. I saw how much that hurt, you can’t even walk.”

He swats at her hands, “I’m fine, really.”

She crosses her arms, “You have two broken ribs, first degree burns on half your body, head damage, and we’re probably going to need to get you new hearing aids because you don’t seem to be listening to a word I say.”

Clint sighs, trying to position himself comfortably, “What time is it?”

“This is exactly what I’m saying--”

“What time is it?”

She glares at him, “Just after 12 pm.”

He chuckles, making her raise an eyebrow in confusion, “I guess you didn’t get me home by midnight.”

A smile starts to spread onto her face, “Yeah, your wife is going to be pissed.”

They both laugh, letting the weight off their shoulders and relaxing one more time together, both as Avengers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked!


	9. walking a tightrope with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You care so much about everyone. I know that makes it hard. But you know why I love you so much? It's because you keep caring about people, no matter how much wrong they've done."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 9(Alt prompt used): "I can't lose you, too"
> 
> PARKNER IS MY OTP PLEASE AND THANK YOU
> 
> written by me ;)

"Guess who!"

Peter felt hands being placed over his eyes and a warm body leaning against the back of his as he bent over in his seat, deeply focused on his work but the contact bringing him out of it.

"Hm… I don't know…" he said, feigning confusion. "Wait. I got it. Captain America, right?"

The person behind him laughed softly, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

"Way better, darlin'."

"What could be better than Captain America?"

"Hey!" Peter's torso was poked lightly in response to the comment and he laughed.

"I'm just messing with you, H."

"You better be." Harley sat down next to him, leaning over to see what he was doing. "You gonna be working for much longer?"

"Just give me another hour."

Harley faked a pout.

"Half-hour?"

"Forty-five minutes."

"Deal," the older boy replied, grinning. "And tonight,  _ I'm  _ picking the movie. I'm gettin' a little tired of watching the same Star Wars movies every night, Peter."

"What? I like them!"

"Consider this: Stark  _ Trek. _ "

Peter faked a gag, rolling his eyes as Harley smiled.

"God, no. Anyways, you just like that movie because you're totally crushing on Chris Pine."

"Me?! Please!" Harley shook his head. "He does have a pretty nice face, though."

"But…?"

"But… no one will ever be as perfect as you, Peter Parker."

"Gross."

"You know you like it."

Peter smiled at him, placing his hand on the back of his neck.

"Yeah. Maybe I do."

"Hey. You kids busy, or can I interrupt the Hallmark movie going on here?"

Tony walked into the lab, eyeing Peter and Harley.

"What's up, Tony?" Harley asked casually, turning to face him.

"I was wondering if you two wanted to take up a little operation for me." He pulled up a display on the table. "We've been getting some communication interference lately, and we think it might be because some private mob is messing with the radio waves. Something about total control of the media, manipulation… you guys know the drill. Anyways, it should be super quick, in and out, so I wanted to see if you guys wanted to take it."

"Yeah, I'm in." Peter was always eager to take an assignment, especially when it was with Harley.

"Sure. Sign me up!"

"Great. I'll send the coordinates to Karen."

Peter stood up automatically to grab his suit, which was stored in its usual spot in his backpack.

"Last one at the front gets to pick the movie!" He shouted on his way out.

"Hey, no fair!" Harley indignantly shouted in reply, running after him.

A few minutes later they were both at the front of the building.

"You don't have to put on a tight suit," Peter groaned. "You have an advantage."

Harley laughed.

"You're just mad you don't get to make me watch The Empire Strikes Back for the hundredth time." Harley smirked, nudging Peter's shoulder before activating his mask.

"How are the improvements?" Peter asked. "I worked on them myself."

"They're great. Feels a lot more comfortable. You did good, Pete."

"I know."

"Don't go getting ahead of yourself, now."

Harley's suit  _ was  _ great. He loved getting to go out on patrol with Peter, stopping crime and taking out bad guys. The suit was inspired by Tony's, but was blue and silver instead of gold and hot-rod red.

"I won't, oh great Iron Lad."

"God, who came up with that? We've gotta find something better."

They talked between each other as they made their way towards the coordinates Tony had sent them, Peter swinging in between the skyscrapers and Harley flying in front of him. If there was one thing he loved the most about this suit, it was that he could frikin'  _ fly. _ If that wasn't the coolest superhero shit ever, Harley didn't know what was.

"It's in there." Peter crouched in front of an apartment building on the edge of Manhattan, Harley landing beside him.

"How many heat signatures are you getting?" Harley asked.

"I've got five."

"Okay. So we should go in through the fifth-floor window. They'll be armed, but it shouldn't be with any more than handguns. We need to take out any equipment that could be causing any interference and find out who the leader of this group is."

"Yeah, got it." Peter stood up. "I'll create a diversion."

He swung in through the window, and Harley could hear him over the comms in his suit.

"Hey, guys! The radio station just called; they said your singing is so bad, it makes Pitbull's music look Grammy-worthy!"

Harley rolled his eyes. Yup, this was the drill.

"Anyways, I figured I should come and take care of it before your parents find out you've chosen an absolute failure of a career choice. Maybe you should talk it out with them. Grab a coffee and cool down a bit, you know?"

There were a few thuds and angry shouts. Harley advanced towards the building.

"Anyways, let's make this quick. I've got a date tonight with my boyfriend. He's totally hot but he's so uncultured. Doesn't like Star Wars."

There was a loud grunt.

"I know, right? I can't believe it, either."

"Hey, you done gossiping over there, Spiderman?"

"Oh, look, it's my friend Iron Lad! Yeah, we're just here to take down your little interference operation. Oh, and by the way, who do you people work for?"

"Like I'd tell you," the man webbed up to the wall spat at Peter. The other four were already unconscious on the ground.

"Don't worry, I'll find out one way or another. You guys don't stand a chance against S.H.I.EL.D., who we'll be dropping you off to."

Harley was standing over a computer screen.

"Hey, Peter, this looks like… a map."

"Huh?"

"Yeah. There's a bunch of red dots." Harley inserted a small drive from his suit into the computer and began downloading the files. "What the hell?"

"What is it?" Peter came to stand by him.

"It- the dot over us is blinking. It says-"

Harley's comms cut out, and his voice became muffled within the suit.

"H? You still with me?"

"I- I can't move!"

"What?!"

"I think someone hacked my suit!"

Peter whipped around when the man behind him began to laugh.

"You've fallen right into my web, little spider."

"Unfortunately, I'm the only one weaving webs here. What the hell did you do to him?"

"Not me," he replied, a threatening grin stretched across his face. "Your little friend has gotten away with saving Tony Stark for a bit too long."

Suddenly, the suit opened, and a panicked Harley fell out.

"What the hell is going on, Peter? I- my suit just deactivated-"

"Yeah, I know. I'm trying to figure it out. Karen, what's going on?"

"Can't- don't- attack- code-" The AI's voice crackled until it fizzled out completely.

"Shit."

"It's too late for you both, spider."

Three more people entered the room.

"What, you think I can't handle this?"

"Peter!"

Harley was being lifted up, pounding at the man's tough grip. He spun around, kicking his legs underneath the guy and sending him toppling to the ground. "Peter, we gotta go!"

"Yeah, working on it!"

Harley let out another shout as he was lifted up again, this time shot with an electric poker that made him scream in agony before dropping to his knees, heaving.

"Don't touch him!" Peter yelled, running at the two guys and knocking them to the ground, his movements a blur.

"So desperate, aren't you?" The man on the wall sneered. "We're in your system. You can't stop us. You can't stop the Ten Rings."

Peter's eyes widened as his senses began to tingle and a man lifted a gun towards them.

"Wait, no-"

He ran forward, but the gunshot had gone off. Peter keeled over, feeling himself but finding no wound. The man laughed again, but it was cut off when a blast rang through the room. Peter jumped across Harley's body, shielding him from any impact as Tony Stark flew into the building.

"The party's over. The Ten Rings were cut off long ago. This? This is just a wannabe group of criminals. I know who you're working for now. And I'll take him out, right after I'm finished with you."

He sliced through the man's webbing with his blasters before lifting him up and throwing him aside, taking out everyone else in one fell sweep before shooting them all with tiny darts, rendering them unconscious.

"Peter…" Harley mumbled.

"Hey. It's okay. We're okay."

"No, Peter…"

"What? What are you-" Pete removed his hand down Harley's chest and stopped when he felt a warm, oozing liquid coming from his torso. "No. No, shit, don't-"

Harley breathed heavily into Peter's ear as he rested his head against his shoulder. Peter felt his legs trembling.

_ No. This isn't right. It shouldn't be him. I swore it would never be him. _

"Kid, move." Gently but firmly, Tony pried Peter off of Harley's body and sprayed the wound with an adhesive substance, preventing any more bleeding. Peter's head was spinning.

"Pete, look at me. He's gonna be okay. He'll be fine. I'm gonna take him back to the tower and I need you to follow me. Peter!"

_ It can't be him. It can't be him. _

He closed his eyes, and an image ran through his mine, this one from a few years ago. It was the same sensation; a gunshot going off, the scared feeling of thinking he was going to die, then turning around and seeing that  _ no, it wasn't him.  _ It was someone else. It was his uncle, laying on the ground, the light in his eyes fading as Peter desperately tried to stop up the blood with hands, screaming for someone to help him. He had been too late then.

"Peter. Are you with me?"

Tony's voice was faint. Peter could feel Harley's hand on his, squeezing it gently.

"I'm still here," he was saying. "I'm still here."

***

When Peter woke up, his first thought was panic.

_ Where's Harley? Where is he? _

He shot up out of his bed, running down the hall.

"Woah, kid, slow down."

"No, I need to find Harley-"

"He's down in the medbay. I'll walk with you." Natasha Romanoff stood in front of him, an expression of confusion on her face as she took in Peter's anxious state, still wearing one of Harley's too-big t-shirts and baggy sweatpants that someone must've put on him. She led him down the stairs to another room.

"Hey, he's okay. Okay?"

"Okay." Peter felt jittery.

"Calm down, Peter."

"I'm calm."

Natasha sighed.

"I know an anxiety attack when I see one."

"I'm  _ fine.  _ Just let me see him."

She opened the door in front of them.

"Peter!"

His entire body felt more relaxed simply at the sound of the other boy's voice.

"Harley! Thank god!" He ran towards him. He was sitting up in a small bed, grinning at Peter, who wrapped his arms around him.

"I was so worried," he whispered into Harley's ear.

"I heard." He pulled his head back, looking at Peter's relieved face. "You really missed me that much, huh, darlin'?"

Pete leaned forward to kiss him.

"How could I not? You still owe me a date."

Harley laughed, a clear, ringing sound that made Peter's heart well up with happiness. He was okay. He was okay. He hadn't been too late this time.

"You freaked out on me back there, Pete. Everything okay?" Harley asked him gently. He knew about what had happened with Peter's uncle. He had woken up in the middle of the night to hear Peter's muffled crying to understand how much it had hurt him.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Just… glad you are, too. Dunno what I'd do without you."

"Of course not. Who would be able to reach the top shelf to get your Ironman mug every morning?"

"Oh, shut up." Peter swatted at Harley's hair, and they both laughed. "So, how are you feeling?"

Harley shrugged, exhaling slowly.

"A little shitty, I guess. Kinda hurts to move. Banner says I'm gonna be on bed rest for at least three weeks."

Peter frowned, but, secretly, some part of him was relieved that Harley wouldn't be able to go on missions with him for a little while.

Three weeks went by much quicker than he had hoped.

"Hey, Tony!"

The exact moment those twenty-one days had passed, Harley came bouncing into the lab, only pausing to catch his breath for a second.

"Pete, look! I'm all good!" He crowed, lifting up his shirt to reveal the scar he had been left with. It had healed completely by now, only the dark, brownish mark and the line running through it serving as a reminder of what had happened.

"Oh, that's great!"

"Yep. I'm going on patrol with you tonight."

"What?!"

Peter looked to Tony, but he was nodding along.

"Yeah, the kid's healthy as a horse. Thought I shouldn't keep him grounded to the building for much longer. He was going crazy."

_ Fair point.  _ Harley had spent the last few weeks nagging  _ everyone  _ in the vicinity for something to do.

"But- isn't it a little early for that? Don't you think we should wait a bit longer?"

"Come on, Pete, it'll be fine!" A joyous Harley sat down beside him. "I thought you would've been excited."

"I am, it's just… I don't want you to get hurt again."

Harley smiled softly, taking Peter's hand.

"God, these teenagers and their damn romance," Tony grumbled under his breath.

"I'll be fine. Tony reprogrammed my suit so it won't be getting hacked again. Those guys are taken care of and, well, to be fair, who has the record for most injuries here?" Harley teased, poking Peter's side. "You don't think I freaked out when you came back here one night with a frickin' knife in your leg?"

"That's fair. But-"

"Peter, it's gonna be fine."

"I- I can't."

"Can't what?"

"Can't let you go back out there yet."

Harley drew his hand away, cold air taking its place. Peter hadn't realized the shakiness of his own breath until now.

"You can't just control me like that, Peter. If I think I'm ready, that should be enough."

"I'm going to… go make a coffee," Tony muttered, and he hastily left the lab, leaving the two boys alone in the now tense room.

"Harley, I can't. I won't." Peter shook his head, which was beginning to feel dizzy.

"Tell me why." Harley's voice was soft, like he knew exactly why already.

"I- I can't- I just can't."

"Do you not trust me or something?" Harley looked into his eyes, his gaze darting back and forth. "Look, Peter, I know you've been through some tough shit. But I'm not helpless. I can take care of myself. And if I say I'm ready, I'm ready."

"No."

Harley stood up, irritated now.

"You can't just tell me  _ no  _ like I should automatically get what you're saying, Peter! It's because you don't trust me, isn't it?! It's because you see me as the guy who always needs protecting. Who always needs a suit of armor around him to stay safe, while you get all the cool, self-enhanced shit! You think you're more capable because of that!"

"No, Harley, I don't! I know you don't mean that! Can we just-"

"Can we just what, Peter?! You can't treat me like a screwup without expecting me to feel like one."

That left Peter speechless for a moment. Harley stood over him, his eyes hard and angry.

"Harley, I wasn't trying to treat you like a screw up. That's not what you are. I'd never say something like that about you. Please don't-"

"You know what? I need a coffee, too."

"No, wait-"

Harley had already left, leaving Peter alone in the lab to think about all the things he had said wrong.

_ I should've just said it outright to him. I should've just told him the thought of putting him in danger makes me feel nauseous. _

An hour later, he found himself sitting in his bedroom. There was still no sign of Harley and, last he had heard, the guy was on the other side of the building, as far from him as possible.

"Hey, bud. Need some company?"

He looked up from his spot on the bed to see Nat standing in the doorway. Silently, he nodded, and she edged her way in.

"Your boyfriend is pretty pissed off. Wanna tell me what that's about? You don't have to," she added, seeing the miserable look on Peter's face.

"I wanted to say something, but it came out the wrong way."

"Ah, the old miscommunication." She sat down beside him. "Been there."

"He's under the impression that I think he's a screwup."

"Well, do you?"

"Of course not."

"Then he knows that." Natasha leaned back, propping her legs up in front of her. "When people get mad, they tend to say things before thinking. Causes problems."

"He hates me."

"That's just ridiculous, Parker. He could never hate you. I swear I saw him the other day pretending to propose to you when he thought no one was watching. You didn't hear it from me, though. If he asks, Barton told you."

Peter smiled softly, imagining Harley doing that. It was something he never would've admitted to Peter himself.

"But… how do I fix it?"

She shrugged.

"You wait for him to cool down. Or you march up to him and demand he let you apologize."

"I think the first option is better."

"Probably. He bad-mouthed Steve this morning for pouring him cornflakes instead of cheerios.  _ I  _ would never bad-mouth Steve."

Peter laughed to himself.

"He means well, but he gets a little hot-headed sometimes."

"I'll say."

"What if it takes a while? How long am I supposed to wait for?"

"When he's ready, he'll come to you. Just be patient."

"O- okay. Thanks, Natasha."

"Hey, anytime, kid."

They talked for a bit longer and then she left for training, leaving Peter by himself again. The sun was setting, and he was beginning to feel tired. He hoped Harley would come back soon, because he  _ really  _ wasn't looking forward to sleeping alone.

But after taking a shower and waiting up a couple more hours, there was still no Harley.

_ He must be really pissed to not want to sleep with me. _

Pete laid down, closing his eyes. Where there usually would've been Harley's body beside him, emanating warmth, now there were only the blankets. Peter hadn't slept alone in months.

When he did finally fall asleep, he was still alone.

***

Harley was in the kitchen, chewing half-heartedly on a granola bar. The clock said it was midnight, and he was tired, but he didn't feel like sleeping. He just sat on the counter, his legs dangling off the edge as he continued to nibble at his snack.

The kitchen was empty, the sound of a ticking clock branding itself into Harley's brain.

He left to go to the living room.

"Hey, Keener. You're still up?"

"Either that or I'm sleepwalking."

"Huh." Scott Lang frowned.

"Why are you up?"

"Cassie called. She said it was an 'emergency' and that I 'needed to watch the new episode of Dragonvale with her'."

"Dragon…?"

"Don't ask. Dragons. They have a lot of relationship drama. Long story," Scott yawned, rubbing his face with his hand. "Anyways, I'm headed off to bed now. You?"

"I- I guess."

"Good. Looks like you need it."

"Uh… thanks?"

"Okay, I've gotta go get at least a few hours in before Steve drags my ass out of bed to go for a stupid run at, like, five in the morning." Scott laughed to himself. "We all know he only does it so he can yell 'on your left!' at us every five minutes, though."

"Er- okay. Goodnight, Scott."

"Night, Keener."

As Scott walked away Harley shoved his hands and his pockets and continued his way down the empty hall. It was nice that Scott cared so much about his daughter to stay up late just to watch a cartoon with her. Harley would've done the same type of thing for his sister. And he'd do the same thing for Peter, no matter how angry he was at him. If he was being genuine, he wasn't angry at Peter so much as he felt frustrated at himself. He knew Peter meant well; he always did. He probably panicked because of the trauma he'd gone through, and Harley had just brushed all that off.

He found him standing at the door to his room. He hadn't slept here in months, but he pushed it open anyways, closing the door behind him to take a shower and get ready for bed.

When he laid down, he found himself staring blankly up at the ceiling, his arms behind his head. The room was too quiet. He had gotten accustomed to hearing the sound of Peter's gentle breathing as he fell asleep every night, and the weight of his head on Harley's chest.

_ Who am I kidding? I can't do this. _

His feet made soft thumps against the floor as he walked to Peter's room.

"Peter?" He whispered quietly, tapping on the door with his knuckle. He heard the sound of movement, so his first assumption was that he was awake, too. "Hey, can I come in?"

There was no response.

"I- I want to talk, if you're awake."

Still nothing. Harley tried the panel on the door, finding it unlocked, and slid it open silently. Peter was curled up in a ball on the bed, the only light coming through the open doorway. He walked up to him, nudging him softly.

"Hey. Are you okay?"

He was crying, Harley realized, tears flowing steadily down his face. He was also shivering, having kicked off all of his blankets.

"Peter…" Harley sat down beside him. He had seen Peter have nightmares before. Usually, they only lasted a few moments before he woke up in a panic.

"Peter. Wake up."

"No," he murmured quietly, and at first Harley thought he was saying it to him. "No- don't go- please- I'm sorry- I'm sorry! Ben!"

"God." Harley wrapped his arm around him, pulling him closer to his chest. "Peter, c'mon. Wake up."

"I'm sorry, Ben," Peter repeated, his voice shaky and quiet. "Please-"

"Peter!"

"You can't leave- you- Harley-"

"Peter, I'm right here!" Harley had to do something. "FRIDAY, turn on the light."

The room was illuminated in soft, yellow light, exposing Peter's face, shining with tears down his cheeks. 

"Peter, if you can hear me, I'm here. Wake up." He pulled Peter against his chest, kissing his forehead. Peter was still mumbling, some things unintelligible but with a "Harley!" or an "I'm sorry" laced in between his soft pleas. Harley rubbed his hair, keeping him close to him, realizing there wasn't much he could do. He sat on the bed for what felt like forever, rocking Peter back and forth gently. He was about to get up and call Tony when Peter woke up, gasping for air like he had just been drowning.

"Jesus, Peter. Hey, it's me. It's me."

Peter looked around wildly before his eyes fell on Harley's face.

"Harley."

"Yeah, that's me."

Sniffling, Peter wiped his nose and face, as if he was trying to hide the rivers of tears stained on him.

"I'm- I'm sorry-"

"It's okay." Harley comforted him and Peter let his head lean back against his chest, catching his breath. His hand gripped Harley's arm.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I- I don't think... I can."

"Okay. That's alright. Just… try and calm down a bit, okay?"

Peter nodded. Harley kept his hand against his messy, brown curls, tangling his fingers in them while Peter kept his eyes closed, his breathing slowing. After a few minutes, he spoke again.

"You came back."

"Yeah. Didn't really feel like sleeping alone."

"Harley- I'm sorry. For what I said earlier." Peter lifted himself off Harley's body, sitting to face him. He looked better now, calmer, but his body was still shivering slightly. Wordlessly, Harley took one of the discarded blankets from the edge of the bed and wrapped it around his shoulders.

"I know you didn't mean anything bad. I overreacted."

"I should've been more vocal about it. I just- I just got scared."

"I know." Harley moved closer to him. "I was kind of a dick and that didn't make it any easier."

"It's not your fault. But… I wasn't trying to control you. And I definitely don't think you're a screwup." Peter paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. "I just panicked because- because I was so worried about- losing you. I- I've lost so many of the people I love," he said, his voice almost a whisper. "I can't lose you, too. I just can't. I wouldn't be able to live with myself."

Harley was silent for a moment. He didn't really know what to say.

"You care so much about me, Peter. You care so much about everyone. I know that makes it hard. But you know why I love you so much? It's because you keep caring about people, no matter how much wrong they've done. You love them for who they are, and you give everyone a chance. The world needs more people like you. And… you've been hurt so much by that, too. I'm sorry. I'm sorry you have to go through that."

"It's not your fault, H."

"No, but… I want to help. Nothing is going to stop me from doing superhero stuff with you, Peter, but you can be damn well sure I'll always be here to help you work through your shit, no matter what."

Peter looked up at him, wrapping the blanket tighter around himself.

"Thanks, Harley," he said, the shadow of a smile on his face. "I- I love you a lot, you know that? I think you're really amazing. And I'm glad I have a partner to do… well, superhero stuff."

"I am a pretty great partner, aren't I?"

Peter laughed softly, and Harley wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tightly. He felt Peter's arms worm their way out of the blanket and around Harley's back.

"Hey, Harley?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for saving me all the time. Including now."

"Hey, it's mutual."

"I don't ever want to lose this."

Harley smiled, letting his head fall against the top of Peter's head.

"You never will, Pete."

"Ever?"

"Ever."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MCU should include a harley-peter dynamic but they haven't because it would be too powerful or whatever
> 
> Thanks for reading! <3


	10. I'm so tired(of running all the time) PART 1/2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Little Peter Parker… I'm working with someone now. Someone who wants to see you suffer just as much as I do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 10: "I'm sorry. I didn't know." And Day 11: hallucinations
> 
> our first two-part combo yayy
> 
> TW for non-graphic references to rape and sexual abuse (Skip Westcott)
> 
> written by me

Peter was late. Again. Tony checked his watch anxiously, wondering if he should send out one of his drones and make sure the kid didn't get himself into anything more than the usual trouble.

"Hey, FRIDAY, call the kid for me, will ya?" Tony asked his robotic AI, who obliged immediately.

"Hey it's Peter, leave a message!" The prerecorded tone spoke to Tony, and he shook his head.

"Hi kid. You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago. Everything okay?" Tony said. "End message."

He was considering tracking him, but he didn't want to invade his privacy too much yet. When he was beginning to escalate from annoyance to worry, FRIDAY sent him an alert.

"Mr. Stark, Peter Parker has just arrived."

"Thanks, Fri. Send him up."

A few moments later, Peter burst into the lab, breathing heavily. His hair was disheveled, messy atop his head, and his cheeks were red from exertion.

"Mr. Stark- sorry- phone dead- no bus-"

Tony held his hand up.

"Just glad you're okay. Why didn't you just use Karen?"

Peter stood for a moment, letting his breathing slow before he threw his backpack down by his usual spot and sat down heavily.

"I forgot about that," he said, eyeing Tony as he ran his hand through his curly brown locks in a feeble attempt at smoothing them down. "Sorry, Mr. Stark. It's been a busy day."

Tony gazed at Peter, wondering if there was something the kid wasn't telling him.

_ Nah. He's just caught up in all his school stuff. _

"You sure?"

Peter nodded.

"Yeah, my decathlon practice went a lot longer than I expected, then I forgot I said I'd hang out with MJ for a while after-"

"MJ, as in, your girlfriend, right?"

The pink in Peter's cheeks came back as he blushed.

"Well- no, not exactly. I mean, sort of. It's complicated."

Tony nodded, whistling through his teeth and leaning back against the table.

"Why's it complicated?"

Peter shook his head, looking down.

"It's… nothing."

"You can talk to me, kid. You like her a lot, right?"

"Well… yeah, I do."

"Does she like you?"

"I, uh, I think so. But she's not really… well, I don't know. I guess I'm just nervous."

Tony chuckled.

"Yeah, relationships can be like that. Especially when you start gettin' to the more serious stuff."

Peter's head shot up.

"Mr. Stark! It is  _ not  _ like that. I don't- I mean, I'm not- that's-"

"Relax, kid. I'm just messing with you." Tony tilted his head to the side, playing Peter's sudden uncomfortableness off as nothing more than trying to avoid an awkward conversation. "You ever need advice on that stuff, though, I'm your guy."

Peter laughed nervously, rubbing his hands together.

"Okay, so can we, uh, just work on our project for a little while?" 

Tony nodded, understanding Peter wanted to change the subject. If the kid didn't want to talk to him about certain things yet, maybe that was still a bridge Tony needed to work on building.

After a few hours of small talk and work on prototypes for Peter's suit, the brown-haired boy picked up his backpack.

"I gotta go, Mr. Stark. Same time tomorrow?"

"Sure. Don't be late."

"Got it."

With that, Peter left. Tony walked around the lab, picking up the pieces of equipment strewn across the floor (cleaning wasn't something he did often, and the space was usually a disaster). By the time he had finished, the chaos of the lab had died down a little bit to a normal-sized mess and Tony nodded, satisfied with his work. As he signaled to FRIDAY to turn the lights off, he noticed something under Peter's desk.

Reaching down, he pulled up a crumpled sheet of paper. It was out of place because where Tony's space was a heap of metal, tools, and other random equipment, Peter's table was normally overwhelmingly straightened out. If you asked Tony, he'd always say it was because Peter was a perfectionist. Uncrumpling the paper and smoothing it out with his hand, Tony examined its contents.

_ The kid got an F? On a calculus test, no less. _

If there was one thing Peter simply  _ didn't  _ do, it was get bad grades in calculus. He lived for that class; Tony knew it was a breeze for him because he'd seen firsthand the way Peter sped through his homework every night, getting every single question correct. Maybe it was just a fluke. Maybe Peter had a bad day. Whatever it was, though, Tony decided to take it upon himself to figure it out.

***

"Hey, Pete. What's up? You've barely touched your pancakes."

"I know. Sorry, May. I'm just not that hungry."

May frowned, turning to flip a browning pancake over in the pan, batter splattering across the sides. Groaning, she put down her spatula.

"I can never seem to get that flip right," she grumbled, looking back to Peter. "And what about those calculus grades? I thought you loved calculus."

"I do. It's just been hard lately." Peter nibbled on his pancake, staring at the door.

"I'm not going to let you go out on patrol if you can't bring your grades up, Peter."

"I know… I'm trying."

Sighing, May walked over to Peter and ruffled his hair gently, awarding her a small smile from the boy.

"Well, try and stay focused at school, alright? I've got a late shift, so I won't be back until past eleven."

"Will do," Peter said, standing up and discarding his half-eaten breakfast as his aunt grabbed her coat. "Love you, May!" He said, as she walked out the door to go to work. A few minutes later Peter left, too, walking to the train station.

"Hey, man. You didn't call me last night. We had a study group, remember?"

"Right. I completely forgot. Sorry about that, Ned."

Ned shook his head.

"No problem. You doing okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine. God, why does everybody keep asking me if I'm okay?" Peter bit his tongue as soon as he let the words slip out of his mouth, more harsh and blunt than he had intended. Ned eyed him warily.

"Dunno. Maybe it's because you've been acting weird lately. You know, you don't need to keep everything from us."

"I know. Sorry, Ned. I've just been busy with the Stark internship."

Ned nodded, patting his friend on the back, oblivious to the way Peter tensed at the contact.

"Okay. Cool. Well, if you want, you can come to my place tonight-"

"I can't. Sorry. I've got a lot of stuff to do."

"O- okay."

They stayed quiet the rest of the train ride, Peter staring down at his phone screen and Ned shooting him a skeptical glance from time to time. When they finally got to school, Peter groaned.

"Great. Flash came in early today."

"Just avoid him."

"It's not that simple."

It wasn't. By the time Peter had reached his locker Flash was already there, leaning against it with arid nonchalance, the usual smirk across his face.

"Sup, Penis. You got something for me?"

Peter winced.

"I didn't have time to do your homework last night, Flash. I'm sorry."

Flash's smirk turned into an angry frown and he stepped forward, advancing towards Peter. Ned stood behind him, looking on in worry.

"You said you'd do it, Parker. You know I need that grade to stay on the team."

"I- I know. I had a lot to do last night. I'm sorry," he repeated his apology, keeping his head low. The truth is, Peter could easily defend himself from the bigger, burlier kid, but he never would. He always told Ned it was because he didn't want to risk exposing his identity.

In reality, that was never the full reason.

Flash grabbed Peter's arm suddenly and Peter flinched backwards, but couldn't get out of his grip before he felt his head slam into the locker. Stars danced across his vision.

"Flash, let him go!" Ned spoke tentatively, and, upon regaining himself and looking around, Peter realized a crowd was forming. Flash had a devilish grin on his face as he pinned Peter against the lockers, pressing his hand against his head and his other arm against his back. Peter knew the routine with Flash. This wasn't usually it. Flash would hit him on occasion, maybe knock his books out of his hands. Once or twice, Peter even ended up with his head down the boys' toilets. (He had never told anyone about that.) But Flash never really took to the whole public humiliation thing. This was new. And Peter didn't like it, but he was too scared to do anything, his feet frozen to the floor.

"Got something to say, Penis?" Flash said threateningly, digging his fingers into Peter's spine and earning him a pained yelp.

"Flash, I- I'm sorry. Let me go."

The crowd was growing now. Peter desperately tried to push their leering chants of "Penis Parker! Penis Parker!" out of his mind.

Suddenly he was on the floor, hitting his back against the ground and laying there, struggling to breath as Flash kneed him in the stomach and hit him across the face, to the delight of the watching crowd of students. Ned had disappeared.

"You fucked with me one too many times, Parker. You're gonna have to pay for that."

"Flash-" Peter was cut off when he cried out in pain as Flash punched him hard in the face. He felt warm liquid trickling from his nose and his lip. Flash punched him a few more times. Peter had stopped talking. He was just laying there and taking it. It wasn't normal, even for him. But he couldn't move.

It was too familiar. This. The feeling of being pinned down, the breath being pushed out of his lungs as someone larger on top of him hurt him. Peter hated remembering that feeling.. he had spent so many years struggling to block it out of his mind, but, in that moment, it all came rushing back, the dams breaking and the water pouring in. He stayed still until, as quickly as he had advanced on Peter, Flash was pulled off of him and thrown aside. The school principal stood over them, Ned next to him.

"Shit, Peter," Ned breathed, leaning down next to him. Peter struggled to sit up, groaning. 

"Leeds, take Parker to the nurse," the principal directed and Ned nodded.

"Come on, Peter. Take my hand."

Reluctantly, Peter let Ned help him stand up and walked with him to the nurse's office, leaning heavily on his shoulder.

"Why didn't you hit him back? You could've ended that shitface so easily."

"Didn't want to risk it," Peter mumbled.

"Uh-huh. I'm beginning to think that's not why." Ned shook his head. "You're just… always acting like a doormat for him when you could at least stand up to him. You're more than able to, Peter. It's like you  _ wanted  _ him to hurt you."

"You think I  _ wanted  _ that?!" Peter shouted, pushing himself off Ned, who stepped back, his eyes widening. "You think I fucking  _ wanted  _ that, Ned? You think I just don't give a  _ fuck  _ about the fact that Flash knows he can do whatever the hell he wants to me?! I don't! You have no  _ fucking  _ idea what it's like to deal with the shit I have to deal with, so stop acting like you understand, Ned!"

"Peter, I- I didn't mean it like that-"

"Leave me the hell alone, Ned. I don't need you to be coddling me all the time."

Peter turned and walked towards the back exit of the school, not caring about the fact that he could still feel blood dripping down his chin and onto his shirt. Not caring about the fact that Ned was yelling at him to come back, to go see the nurse, to call his aunt. The only thing he cared about was getting out of there, and getting rid of the knot of regret and anxiety that was twisting and rolling in his chest, making it hard for him to breathe and causing his eyes to well up with tears. He walked out of the school and picked up his pace until he was running, his feet pounding against the asphalt as he fled the school building, Ned, and all of his fucked up, scary problems. Spiderman was brave. Peter Parker? Not so much. At least, that's what he always told himself.

He was too busy worrying to notice the tingling sensation running by his spine. By the time the prick of a needle in his neck signaled to him something was wrong, it was too late.

Peter fell, the world turning black around him.

***

When he woke up, Peter's head was spinning, the blood on his face dry and sticky. He lifted his hands, metal cuffs around both his wrists. He tried to pull them apart but his body was still so sleepy that his arms felt like lead and he could barely move them.

"Hello, Peter Parker."

Peter lifted his head, blinking to try and remove some of the blurriness from his eyes.

"Who… who are you?" He asked, looking up at the women who had appeared in front of him. She looked familiar, but Peter was too tired to tell.

"Oh… you don't remember me?" The women frowned. "I'm disappointed. Especially because  _ you  _ were the one who got me in jail, Spiderman. Two years in a stinking cell, and all for one little diamond robbery." She crouched down next to him, running her fingers through his hair. Peter shuddered. "You got lucky that time, despite my mantra. But you won't be so lucky again…"

With those words, it clicked for Peter.

"Felicia Hardy. I took you down. You were the Black Cat. You killed three people because you wanted some money." He looked at her glinting, dark eyes. "How do you know who I am?"

She tutted, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

"Little Peter Parker… I'm working with someone now. Someone who wants to see you suffer just as much as I do."

"You won't get away with this," Peter deadpanned, trying to formulate a plan. Felicia stood up, reaching for a glass bottle and a syringe on the table.

"You remember Norman Osborne, yes?" She spoke slowly, her mouth articulating each word in a way that chilled Peter to the bone. He tried to break the cuffs again, and he could feel them straining, but he still wasn't strong enough to free himself.

"Such a nice man. He offered me a very large sum of money to bring you in. However, I knew I couldn't do it alone, so he created this very  _ special  _ concoction-"

"What's it gonna do, huh? Make me take a  _ cat  _ nap?" Peter taunted. He was doing his best to distract her now, but all he got from that was a hard kick to the stomach.

"Guess you don't like my cat puns…" he groaned. He was running out of ideas. Felicia bent down next to him again, twirling the syringe in her fingers.

"Hmm… no, I don't think it's that simple. It's more of a hallucinogen, you see… something Mr. Osborne designed especially for you." She grinned maliciously. "This will be fun, Peter Parker. This time,  _ you'll  _ be the unlucky one."

Peter pulled against the cuffs as hard as he could, and they snapped. He reached up to knock the Black Cat to the floor-

But he missed, and he felt the needle plunge deep into his neck.

"No-" he breathed, but he could feel his arms and legs going limp again. Felicia sneered down at him, pushing his head against the ground. The last thing he saw was her reaching for her phone before he collapsed completely, tumbling back into the darkness.

This time, though, it didn't stay for long. When Peter opened his eyes, he was in his bedroom.

Except… it wasn't his present bedroom.

May walked through the door and Peter turned, confused.

"M-May?" He questioned. His aunt gave him a smile, reaching over to ruffle his hair.

"Hi there, champ. You didn't come out of your room at all last night. You feeling okay?"

Peter looked down at his hands. They were his hands… except they weren't. They were much smaller.  _ He  _ was much smaller.

He felt himself saying something, but he couldn't control his words. It almost felt like Peter was trapped inside his own, younger body.

"I'm okay, Aunt May."

She gave him another warm smile.

"Good. Then you'll be glad to hear that I invited Skip over again. He said he had a wonderful time with you last night, and Ben and I were thinking about hitting that new Korean place."

_ No. This isn't right. This can't be happening. _

"I…" smaller Peter spoke softly. "Yeah. Okay."

May nodded.

"It'll be fun! I'll leave you guys some pizza money."

_ Fun  _ wasn't exactly the word Peter would've used to describe it. He knew what was happening now. It was a dream. It had to be a dream, but it felt so  _ real,  _ from the flowery scent of May's hair to the softness of the sheets below him, crumpling as he squeezed them in his fists.

"O-okay." His voice said.

When May left, Peter's heart dropped even further than it already had. He had to get out of there. The older Peter tried to scream, tried to move, but it was as if he was being controlled by the younger version of him, which meant he knew every second of what had happened that night.

That night, which had been one of many.

Peter had  _ never  _ told anyone about Skip. Not even his aunt, nor his uncle. He couldn't bear it, to let them know what he had let the older boy do to him. He couldn't bear for them to know what he had gone through. He couldn't bear for May, or anyone he was close to, to know he felt that pain every day. To know it was the reason why he was so,  _ so  _ scared of getting as close as he was with MJ. What if he became too dependent on her? What if the fear got to him, and he did something that hurt both of them? What if he could never truly trust her, because of what he had experienced? Truthfully, deeply, Peter felt he could never be good enough for  _ anyone _ . Not after the things he had done.

_ Let me out,  _ he willed silently.  _ God, just let me out. _

"Skip's here! See you later, Pete!" A voice. Such a familiar voice to Peter, but one that he hadn't heard in years.

_ Ben. Ben!  _ If Peter was in his own body, in his own life as it was right now, he would've been sobbing, reaching out for his dead uncle. A moment later, an all too familiar face walked through the door.

"Hey, Einstein. What's up?" Skip threw his backpack down on the floor and little Peter retreated towards the corner of the room, his body trembling. He knew he wasn't safe, but he felt… frozen. The same way he had felt with Flash.

"Aw, c'mon, kid, don't be like that." Skip laid on Peter's bed, scrolling through his phone nonchalantly, as if nothing was wrong. "Come on, let's do something."

"No!"

Skip sat up, eyeing Peter. He was much larger than the kid, with a lot more muscle on his bones. He was a football player, the captain of the varsity team at his high school.

"Don't say no to me," he warned. "Let's read some magazines."

Even though he didn't want to, even though every single fiber of his body was screaming at him to flee, out the door and down the stairs, to run and hope that Skip didn't catch him, Peter obliged, sitting down on the bed next to him. Skip gave him a threatening smile, which sent a spark of fear through Peter.

"Good, Einstein," he said. "Now you're getting it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes, part 2 tomorrow
> 
> Thanks for reading! <3


	11. I'm so tired(of running all the time) PART 2/2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I- I- I just want it to stop, Mr. Stark. I want to stop being afraid. I hate it. I hate being so afraid."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 10: "I'm sorry. I didn't know." And Day 11: hallucinations
> 
> TW: references to past sexual abuse  
> In which Peter gets hurt and Tony's doing his best
> 
> written by me :)

"Tony, have you seen Peter? Is he there? He never came home from school today and I got a call from the principal."

Tony scratched his chin, staring at his computer screen. Peter's tracker had never been activated, which means he hadn't put the suit on yet today.

"No, May, I'm sorry. He isn't here." He leaned back. "What sort of trouble did he get into?"

May sighed, concern clear in her tone.

"I don't know the details. Some kid in his class attacked him. Ned tells me he's been a problem for Peter for a while."

"He got a name?"

"Flash Thompson."

"Ah. Yeah, Pete's mentioned him once or twice. He always seemed dodgy about that kid," Tony replied. Then again, Peter seemed dodgy about many things.

"Ned told me he didn't even try to stand up for himself. I'm  _ worried, _ Tony. He hasn't answered my calls all day."

"I'll call him. Try not to worry too much; I'm sure he'll turn up." He was trying his best to comfort her, but he felt a twinge of worry for the boy, too.

"Thanks, Tony."

"No problem."

He called Peter's cell first and, when the kid didn't pick up, he switched to Karen. She had never been activated, either. Wherever Peter was, he wasn't wearing the suit.

_ Maybe he just needed to take some time for himself. Maybe I shouldn't try and bother him. _

However, the concern in May's voice had made it clear to Tony that Peter doesn't usually do stuff like this. The kid wasn't like Tony in that aspect; he didn't run away to try and solve his problems.

"Where are you, Pete?" He muttered to himself.

Suddenly, he got another idea. He picked up the phone, dialing a number he had never thought he'd have to call.

"Hello? Who is this?"

"Hey, Leeds. It's Tony. Stark."

"Oh my god, Mr. Stark! Such an honor to be talking to you right now, you know I read your book-"

"Okay, kid, listen. Let's just get to the point, alright?" Tony cut an excited Ned off. "What happened with Peter today?"

"Oh, right, yeah. Today was… kinda shitty." Ned's voice dropped almost immediately. "Peter was supposed to do Flash's homework yesterday, you see, and he didn't because he forgot, and, well, Peter's been forgetting a lot of things lately but that's not really the point. Anyways, Flash was pissed, like  _ really  _ pissed, and he started attacking Peter. And you know how Peter has like super strength, super stickiness, super  _ everything  _ basically? He didn't even use it. He just laid there and let Flash absolutely  _ pummel  _ him. It was pretty scary to watch if I'm being honest, Mr. Stark." Ned paused to take a breath. "And then I went to get the teachers and they had to end the fight. Well, it wasn't even a fight; it was more like Flash beating Peter to death. And then I was taking him to the nurse to get something for his face because, well, there was  _ a lot  _ of blood, and I told him he should've defended himself and he just totally exploded. Which is so weird for Peter because Peter  _ never  _ gets super mad. Not even when I accidentally destroyed his giant Lego Chewbacca that took him six hours to build. And he was cursing at me and saying all this shit. And I think he regretted it because right after that, he turned and ran straight out of the school. That was the last I saw of him."

There was silence on the other end of the line, as Tony tried to make sense of the words pouring out of Ned's mouth.

"So he just… left? And he didn't say anything about where he was going?"

"That's right, Mr. Stark. And May totally grilled me about it but I really have no clue where he could be. I already checked all the places I know he could've been."

"Okay. Call me  _ immediately  _ if he turns up, got it?"

"Of course."

Tony hung up the phone, pressing his hand against his forehead and sighing. Where the hell could Peter be?

He sent out one of his drones to do a scan of the city. If Peter was out, he'd find him. He waited in the lab for a while, until the rays of the sun were beginning to sink below the horizon. There was still no sign of the kid. He texted May, letting her know he was still looking and trying to keep her from worrying so much she couldn't function.

He was so lost in thought, ready to send a full manhunt out for this kid, when there was a knocking on his window.

***

Peter got out. He felt himself waking up, struggling to put himself out of the nightmare he had to relive over and over, for what felt like forever. When his senses finally came around and his eyes opened, for really this time, he stared into a blindingly bright, white light. His face felt wet, and he realized it was because there were tears coating his cheeks. All Peter could think about was getting  _ out  _ of wherever he was. His arms were tied down to a table, the feeling of cold metal soaking into his skin. He could hear voices, faint but approaching fast. 

"... shouldn't be awake yet."

"Just get in there."

_ No. _

Everything  _ hurt  _ and Peter's head was pinning but fuck it, he wanted to  _ leave.  _ A wave of adrenaline rushed over him, and he pulled up, snapping the bonds around his arms and reaching down to pull the straps off his torso and legs. He stood up, crying out in surprise when a wave of nausea and soreness washed over him, his muscles screaming at him to collapse.

_ No. Get out of here, Peter. _

He ran for the door.

"Well, look who's up!" Felicia came through the door and pushed Peter back, his shaky limbs giving out and causing him to fall to the floor, taking a rolling table down with him. The sound of shattering glass echoed through the room.

"Little Peter Parker, so  _ desperate  _ to escape." Felicia pressed her foot against his chest. Peter pressed his hand to the floor, crying out a shard of glass dug itself into his palm.

"You're not getting away from me. Not this time."

"I wouldn't put my money on that, ma'am."

Peter pushed her foot off of him and stood up, tackling her to the ground.

_ Be strong, Peter. Just for a few minutes. Just to get out of here. _

He hit Felicia hard enough to knock her unconscious, stood up, and ran. He ran as fast as he could, knocking alarmed people against the wall as he went, stumbling and sliding down the hallway until he reached the end, turning around and debating which way to go. There were sirens blaring now, an alarm going off that made Peter's ears ring in pain, but he just kept running, turning right and crashing through a door, blasting it clean off his hinges. He was in a stairwell, the area empty except for a few people, who were talking into their communication devices and eyeing Peter.

Just then, Felicia ran through the door. She looked  _ pissed _ . She hit Peter across the face and he stumbled backwards, throwing a punch that she dodged gracefully.

"You think you can just run away from everything, huh?" She sneered, advancing towards Peter slowly, the way a cat would sneak up behind a mouse before tearing it to shreds. "You're  _ adorable _ , Peter, but, unfortunately, your luck has run out."

"Has it?" Peter asked, stalling. He needed to come up with a new plan, and he needed to do it fast.

Felicia knocked him over with an outstretched leg, and that's when he got a crazy, possibly suicidal idea. He leaned over the edge of the railing, staring down at the floor below. It didn't look too far. He could make it.

"I'll be back to put you in jail. Where you belong."

Peter jumped.

When he hit the ground, a stab of pain ran up his leg and he cried out. Felicia let out an angry shout, but Peter was already out the door, half-limping, half-sprinting, to the first place he knew he could go.

And that was how he ended up there, outside the window of Tony's second floor lab, his entire body urging him to give in.

"Kid? What the hell are you doing sticking to the window? And where the hell have you been all day?!"

Peter stumbled into the lab, gripping the table for support and Tony rushed to his side. He tried to rub Peter's shoulder but the kid flinched away, shaking his head.

"Mr. Stark… I'm sorry…" Peter spit out, his chest heaving. Suddenly, the kid threw up, vomiting all over the floor of Tony's lab and falling to his knees, tears running down his face.

"Shit, Peter." Tony kneeled down beside him. "Come on. I've gotta get you cleaned up."

The smell of bile was enough to make Tony gag, and he hoped he could simply take Peter to the shower and get this whole mess sorted out. But when he reached out to take Peter's arm, he moved away from Tony.

"No- Mr. Stark- I'm sorry-"

"Okay. It's okay, kid. It's not a problem. I'm gonna call your aunt, okay?"

"No!" Peter exclaimed, his eyes widening suddenly. "No-please- please don't do that." His breathing was sharp and ragged, his eyelids fluttering as he tried to stay awake. Whatever had happened to this kid, it had seriously fucked him over.

"Okay, fine. Not May. How about Bruce? Can I call Bruce? He needs to look you over."

Peter just shook his head, bending his knees to his chest and hiding his face, stifling his sobs.

"No," he kept repeating, and Tony sat there, helpless, not having a clue what to do with this kid who didn't want to be touched or helped.

"No, no, please…"

Wherever he was, wherever he had been, it was obvious to Tony his brain was still stuck there. He had experienced the same before, after the Battle of New York. He knew how it felt to see things that weren't there. To  _ feel  _ fear that shouldn't exist.

"Peter," he said softly. "We don't have to talk about it right now. I won't tell May to come here but I  _ do  _ need to let her know you're okay. We're all worried sick, kid. Let me help you. Let's just get you out of here and cleaned up. Can you do that for me?"

Peter stayed still for a moment before nodding, keeping his face hidden from Tony. He whispered to him now, trying to keep him calm.

"Okay. Go up to my room. It's the closest from here. Take a shower and just lay down, okay? I'll be up there in a bit."

Peter nodded again, standing up on his shaky, tired legs and walking towards the door. Tony wanted to help him; he wanted to let Peter fall into his arms and fend off whatever was hurting him, not letting him go until all the pain was gone. He wanted to, but he knew right now wasn't the time, so he let Peter have his breathing room.

"FRIDAY, let me know when he gets up there. Keep track of him for me."

"Sure thing, boss."

"And call Bruce. Tell him we've got a situation with the spider-kid."

After a moment, FRIDAY replied.

"Dr. Banner is not currently answering her phone. Would you like me to call Agent Romanoff? She is in the vicinity."

"Uh… sure, I suppose. Anything works."

Natasha was never one for being warm, or friendly, but when it came to Peter, she definitely softened up. That's how it was for everyone on the team; when Peter was around, things were always a little less tense and serious.

"Tony? I'm busy, what do you want?"

"Well, hello to you, too, friend."

Natasha groaned.

"Seriously Tony, I'm following a lead right now and I don't need to be distracted."

"I know, I'm sorry. But do you think you could come help me out for a bit? There's no one else in the tower right now and I need some assistance with the kid."

Nat paused before speaking again. "What kind of assistance?"

"He isn't looking too good and I don't know what's wrong with him. If I'm being honest, dealing with personal stuff was always more your thing."

"Yeah. I'm on my way."

"Thanks, Rushman."

"Call me that again, and my foot is going up your ass."

Tony smiled despite himself.

"You know you love me."

FRIDAY signaled that Natasha had hung up and Tony ran his hand through his hair, looking around the messy, smelly lab.  _ I'll get someone to clean that up later _ , he decided, exiting and heading upstairs to his room.

He knocked on the door hesitantly, pressing his ear against it.

"Hey, Pete? Mind if I come in?"

When no answer was given, Tony tried the doorknob. It opened and he walked into the room, casting the light from the hallway into the dim space. Peter had gotten out of the shower and was wearing the clothes Tony had told him to put on, one of his old t-shirts and a pair of joggers that were at least two sizes too big for him (he thought they were Steve's.) He was laying in Tony's bed, curled up in a ball. For a moment, Tony thought he might be asleep, but he shifted, so he went to sit next to him at the foot of the bed.

"Nat's gonna come hang out for a bit. I know you like her," he said, leaning back to bring himself closer to Peter, who didn't move. The boy's hair was still damp, and he was creating a wet spot on Tony's sheets, but the man couldn't care less.

"I told May you were here. Convinced her to let you stay for a while, if that's what you wanted." There was still no answer, so Tony decided to keep talking. "Look, kid, I don't know what happened to you at school today, or where the hell you were after, but I want you to know I'm here if you need anything."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stark," Peter mumbled, and Tony turned his gaze to the kid's face, half-hidden in the covers.

"For what?"

Peter shrugged.

"You shouldn't have to take care of me. Not fair."

Tony smiled.

"It's no problem, bud. Seriously."

"It is a problem. I can take care of myself. I can."

"I know that. But we all need a little help sometimes, Peter. You don't need to feel guilty for asking about it."

"Mr. Stark, Agent Romanoff has just arrived."

"Thanks, Fri. You can tell her to come up."

Tony stood up, not noticing the way Peter's body tensed when he did. To be honest, there were many things Tony had never noticed. He would kick himself for that later.

"Hey, Tony. FRIDAY said I'd find you up here." Natasha stood just outside the bedroom, still dressed in a black bodysuit, telling Tony she must've really dropped what she was doing and came straight here.

"Want me to stay with him for a bit?" She asked, needing no explanation from either of them. She nodded towards Peter, laying on the bed in a protective, fetal position.

"Is that what you want, Pete?" Tony said.

Peter nodded.

"Okay. Hey, thank you, Romanoff. Really. I mean it."

She waved her hand in the air, a dismissive gesture.

"I like the kid. It's not a big deal."

As Tony left the room, he watched as Nat sat down beside Peter and began speaking to.him a tone low enough to hide her voice from him,.and he knew that was his cue to leave, walking downstairs to the empty, quiet kitchen.

Nat didn't come down until a few hours later, her usual placid, cool expression replaced by one of worry.

"Did he tell you anything?" Tony asked. Nat shook her head.

"He didn't need to." She sat down at the large island in the center of the kitchen, folding her hands together. "Tony, we need to talk about something."

"Yeah, sure. What is it?"

"I mean- about Peter. He's hiding something."

"I sorta figured that one out, too."

"Stark, I need you to take me seriously right now."

"I am."

Natasha sighed, closing her eyes.

"Peter was showing all the signs of a sexual assault victim."

That statement was enough to make Tony freeze.

"I- what?"

"The way he was holding himself, the things he was saying… Tony, the kid's been hurt by someone. Bad."

Tony sat down next to her.

"Tony… you're shaking. Calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down. What the  _ fuck  _ are you talking about?"

Nat pursed her lips together, shaking her head.

"I… I know what I saw. I've been there, too."

"So you're telling me that someone fucking  _ assaulted  _ my kid and I never even noticed?" Tony pressed his hand over his mouth, screwing his eyes shut. 

"It's not your fault, Tony."

"Yeah, it is. I should've known. I'm gonna kill the bastard who did it."

"You need to keep your cool. Just focus on Peter right now. We can come back to that later, after  _ he  _ decides he wants to talk about it." Nat sighed, rubbing her forehead. "We just need to be patient, and wait for him to come to us. Okay?"

"Sure. Fine."

"Okay. I'm gonna go stay with him for awhile. We shouldn't leave him alone for too long." Nat stood up. "If you want, you're welcome to as well."

"I'll be there in a bit," Tony answered, waving his hand. Natasha gave a short nod before leaving Tony.

_ How did I not notice that? I should've known. _ Tony's mind was racing.  _ God, I should've known. _

***

Two days later, Peter was still at the tower. He hadn't left Tony's room for the most part, and only talked occasionally. He had refused to eat a single thing. Today, Tony was sitting next to him, trying to get him to eat.

"Pete, come on. Just one bite. I used your aunt's recipe!"

"Not hungry."

Tony sighed, leaning back on the bed.

"Kid, you've gotta give me something, here.  _ Anything. _ "

Nat stood at the entrance to the bedroom, her arms folded as she leaned against the door frame, right now, the pair were working together to try and get Peter back on his feet, but it was hard when you had a stubborn kid and so many problems you didn't know how to solve. Tony was supposed to be able to fix anything, but he felt entirely helpless trying to get to Peter.

"Tony. Let me talk to him." Nat came forward, taking the plate from the man's hands. Tony stood up, reluctantly moving away from the kid's side.

"Peter, listen. I know you feel like you're only causing problems for us here. I know you feel guilty. But you not eating is causing us a lot more stress than if you just took care of yourself."

Tony winced.

_ Yikes. No need to be so harsh, Nat. _

Her voice softened after that, as she sat down by the boy.

"I know you're hurting. We just want to help you, Peter. Just because we care a lot about you. Who am I ever gonna have as much fun with in training besides you?"

"Clint," Peter mumbled, and Nat laughed.

"Sure, he's fun, but he can be pretty stupid, too. Don't tell him I said that, though. He'll kick my ass."

So now the Black Widow, the woman Tony had been trying for years to make crack a small laugh without success, was making jokes with Peter Parker.

_ Well, isn't that funny? _

His phone buzzed and he reached down to look at it while Nat continued to console Peter. It was yet another long, worried text from May. She had been trying hard to convince Tony to let her come, but if there was one thing Peter adamant about, it was that May  _ didn't  _ see him like he was. Tony wasn't sure why, but he also felt like he had an idea. Peter was the type to hide anything he deemed as "bad" from the world, from a bad grade on a test to failing a mission. He tried so often to only show the parts of himself he considered "good". He judged himself so harshly, the exact opposite of Tony's carefree personality. Sometimes it got him into trouble. Other times, it meant he was hurting, but he didn't show that hurt to anyone. This, here, Peter laying in bed, tired, sad,  _ hurting,  _ this was the culmination of everything he had gone through in his short life, exploding outward because of one event. And it hurt more for him because not only did Peter feel scared, and hurt, but he felt guilty for it. If there was one thing Tony could never handle about that kid, it was tendency to blame himself for absolutely everything.

Tony texted May back, telling her they were doing their best with Peter and, unfortunately, he still didn't want to see her. May understood that, too; she knew Peter wasn't hiding from her because he didn't want her, he just didn't want her to feel responsible for whatever he was going through.

By the time he looked up again, Peter was sitting up next to Natasha, eating small bites of pancake. Tony breathed out a sigh of relief, sitting on the other side of the boy.

"Thank god. I was beginning to think you'd just waste away on us," he said.

"Sorry, Mr. Stark."

"What did I say about apologies?" Tony raised his eyebrow.

"Sorry- er- my bad."

They sat in silence for a few minutes as Peter finished his food.

"So, kid, is there anything you want to talk about? Anything at all. Doesn't have to be related to you in any way."

"I… I think so."

Tony shot him a smile, happy Peter was at least open to a conversation. Nat stood up.

"I've gotta leave you guys for a bit. My lead's waiting." She walked out of the bedroom, leaving the door open behind her.

"Mr- Mr. Stark?"

"Yeah, what's up?"

"C-can I tell you something? Something I've never told anyone. Ever."

"That's a lot of pressure, kid. Luckily, I can take it. What's on your mind?"

Peter moved a tiny bit closer to Tony, enough to where he probably wouldn't have noticed if he hadn’t been paying acute attention to the kid. That was another thing Tony had promised to himself. From now on, he wouldn't let the little things build up.

"Um…" Peter's voice died down for a moment. "Sorry. Sorry."

"Take your time."

He squeezed his eyes shut.

"When- when I was a kid, I had a babysitter."

Tony leaned in closer to Peter, who looked like he might throw up again.

"He was really nice at first. He was older than me. I think he was a senior at the time, but I never asked him." His sentences were choppy, and he had to pause in between them to take deep breaths. Tony felt like he knew where this was going, and every ounce of his body dreaded it.

"May and Ben liked him, too. He came over pretty- pretty often. He would always show me these magazines. They weren't appropriate, especially not for someone as young as I was at the time. But he would show them to me. And- and one day he pointed at a picture and said 'let's do what they're doing in the picture'. I- I was confused. And scared. Mostly scared." He had to stop for a moment again, biting down hard on his lip. Tony was staring at him, his eyes wide in shock and anger.

"God, Peter, I- did he ever- like- did he actually do that to you?"

In response, Peter just nodded, and Tony covered his mouth with his hand.

"Jesus christ, kid."

"He- he told me if I ever told May and Ben, they would just hate me for what I did. They would think I was disgusting. But- but he also wanted to keep doing it with me. And I believed him, so I let him. I let him do it."

"Peter, you did not let him do it. You were a scared little kid. It is in no way your fault for what that sick  _ fuck  _ put you through."

Peter stared down at his hands, clenching his fists together so hard his knuckles turned white before unclenching them.

"I never told anyone," he continued, his voice nothing more than a whisper, "because, even as I got older, the things he said to me still stuck with me. I felt so horrible and ashamed. I- I thought if people knew that about me, they'd hate me. They'd ask me why I didn't try harder to fend him off, and they'd know it was all my fault. Including May and Ben. And Ned. And MJ. And you." He looked up at Tony, wiping the tears from his face. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. I'm sorry you have to know that. I should be over it by now but the other day, when I left school, I- I got drugged with something. I got myself out of that situation, but I- I couldn't take it. It still feels like I'm back there. At night, I still see him. I still see it all." He shut his eyes tight. "I- I- I just want it to stop, Mr. Stark. I want to stop being afraid. I hate it. I hate being so afraid." That was the last thing Peter rummaged to spit out before he caved, tears running silently in a steady stream down his cheeks, his entire body trembling. Tony was feeling shaky, too.

"Peter…" he said, as gently as he could muster. "Can- can I hug you?"

"Y-yeah," Peter said softly, and Tony wrapped his arms around the smaller boy, placing his chin on Peter's forehead. Peter fell against his chest, muffling his sobs through Tony's shirt.

"Peter, I am so, so sorry you had to go through this.  _ I  _ probably should have seen, and known what was going on. I- I had no idea. All of this was not your fault, bud. It just wasn't. There are some fucked up people in this world. People who have fun doing shit like that to kids because they feel like it gives them power. Those people are the ones to blame, Peter. Those pieces of shit. Not you.  _ Never  _ you."

Peter stayed quiet, his tears soaking into the fabric of Tony's clothes. The man didn't care.

"You're allowed to feel hurt by this, Peter, but you're not allowed to feel guilty for it. I just won't have it." Tony leaned back. "Is that why you didn't defend yourself from Flash the other day, too?"

"Yes… May told you?"

"And your other friend. Nick."

" _ Ned. _ "

"Sorry." Tony said, smiling softly. 

"Gotta apologize to Ned."

"He understands. Trust me."

"Mr. Stark?"

"Yeah?"

"Are- are you gonna tell May?"

Tony sighed, rubbing his hands together.

"I think that's more your job, kiddo. I know it's hard, but she does deserve to know. That can be another time, though. When you're feeling ready."

"Okay."

"And Peter?"

"Yes?"

"I… I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't know. I'm sorry for every time I made you feel uncomfortable, or hurt, because I was being insensitive."

"It's not your fault, either, Mr. Stark."

Tony pulled Peter back against his chest, rubbing the kid's soft, brown hair.

"Things are gonna get better, okay? I know everything seems super shitty right now, but they will. I'm sure of it."

They stayed like that for a long time, Tony holding on to Peter as tightly as he could, until he felt Peter's breathing even out, signaling he had dozed off. He continued to rub the kid's back gently, not leaving his side because he wanted to make sure he got the rest he needed. He hadn't known before. But what he did know now, he was going to use to make sure Peter was happy and safe.  _ And  _ maybe get a small taste of revenge on the side.

Not right now, though. Right now, Peter needed Tony, and, as much as he felt grossly sentimental for saying it, Tony needed Peter even more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading <3


	12. i'm... Spiderman?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’ve always seemed to have this like superhero ability to manage school, like you show up and you’re ready for anything, even Flash. And today, you let him show you up.”
> 
> “I don’t know, Ned. I feel fine, just tired. That’s normal. I’m just a regular teenager, not Superman,” Peter mutters in exasperation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 12: "who are you?"
> 
> written by M :)

“Mr. Parker?”

_ “Mr. Parker. _ ”

_ No, leave me alone. _

“Peter Parker, could you please answer the question on the board?”

He bolts awake, hair sticking up on one side, “Could you, uh, repeat the question?”

His teacher crosses her arms, “It is on the board.”

“Oh.”

Peter rubs his eyes, trying to get a clear view, “I- er, I don’t know.”

A ripple of laughter goes through the room, making him duck his head in embarrassment.

She shakes her head, “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Flash, do you know the answer?”

“Yes ma’am…”

Peter zones out, no longer listening to what the bully’s saying. When he looks back, Flash is giving him a smug smile. He just shakes it off, attempting to calm his rising frustration.

_ Why would you call on me if I’m  _ clearly  _ not paying attention? _

_ Stupid, cocky, arrogant-- _

“Hey, you good?” Ned whispers from the table over, a worried look on his face.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” 

That was true, he was pissed but it was nothing to get all fired up about.

Not long after his completely embarrassing feat, the bell rings and Peter’s out the door first. His frustration turns into excitement as he zooms down the hall.

“What’s the rush, Penis?”

Flash comes up behind Peter and knocks him in the back of the head.

“I’ve got plans.” He mumbles.

“What? With your nerd bestie over there, going to go build some legos?” Flash taunts him, waving at Ned coming nervously towards them.

Peter just glares at the floor, trying to get to his locker to put away his books. 

“Ugh. you’re no fun today, Penis.” He punches his shoulder before leaving him, now bored with the regular bullying. 

“What was that about?” Ned asks once he reaches him.

“Just Flash’s regular taunting.”

“I mean in class. You don’t normally doze off and  _ then  _ answer a question wrong.”

“Hmm, I don’t know. I was just up late with homework.”

Ned gives him a questioning glance.

“What?”

“Nothing, I just think that’s odd. You’ve always seemed to have this like superhero ability to manage school, like you show up and you’re ready for anything, even Flash. And today, you let him show you up.”

“I don’t know, Ned. I feel fine, just tired. That’s normal. I’m just a regular teenager, not Superman," he mutters in exasperation.

Ned just nods, “Okay.”

Peter moves to his locker, stuffing his things inside.

“What were you excited for, anyway? You ran out of class like you had somewhere to go.”

He pauses, staring blankly at his locker, “Um, I don’t know. I was excited for…”

_ Didn’t he always have something after school? Some sort of project? To see someone? Why  _ was  _ he excited? _

“Oh! I got the Millennium Falcon set! You wanna come over tonight and help me build it?”

Ned smiles enthusiastically, “Of course!”

Peter grins, “Come at seven. Aunt May will probably make you eat dinner with us so come hungry.”

Ned laughs.

“What are you dorks up to?” MJ walks over.

“Peter and I are--”

Peter slaps a hand over Ned’s mouth, butterflies swarming his stomach for some reason, “We’re just going to hang out tonight.”

Ned raises an eyebrow at him then looks at MJ. Realization crosses his face and he struggles to keep a smirk off his mouth. 

“Sounds cool, can I join?” 

She asks it nonchalantly but Peter’s gut twists, “Yeah, uh, sure.”

Ned smiles wide, “Seven work for you?”

She shrugs, “See you weirdos then.”

Peter just gapes as she leaves, his stomach finally calming.

“Dude, seriously?”

“What?”

Ned points at the starstruck look on Peter’s face, “MJ?”

“What’re you talking about?”

His face flushes with red as he realizes what Ned’s implying.

“What- no, MJ, me.”

“You could barely talk to her, what’s the deal, man?”

“Nothing. We’re just friends. I don’t feel that way- just no.”

Ned just smirks, “Yeah, okay, sure.”

He struts away from Peter, laughing.

“No- Ned, that’s not--”

He just waves back at him, “Whatever you say, Mr. Googly-Eyes. See you lovebirds at seven.”

Before Peter can further protest, he’s gone. 

So he just shoulders his backpack and leaves the hall.

“We’re not lovebirds, he has no idea what he’s talking about, that’s just ridiculous. Me and MJ, pff.” Peter mutters as he walks down the street.

“Girl problems?”

A man on the other side of the sidewalk looks up at Peter, his face partially hidden in shadow.

“Who are you?”

He steps into the afternoon light. Peter recognizes him, that smirk plastered on billboards and all over the news.

“Uh, Tony Stark?”

Something like… joy crosses his face. He seems so familiar, not just from advertisements, like something deeper. 

“Hey, kid.”

That triggers something, the way he says it, the emotion Peter can hear in it.

“Er- sir, what are you doing down here?” Peter mumbles nervously.

The previous spark of joy disappears, replaced with a cocky grin, “I like to walk around here every once in a while.”

“Oh, that’s nice.”

“Yeah, mind if I walk with you?” 

He comes beside Peter before he can answer, settling into an easy gait as they walk down the street.

“So, girl troubles.”

Peter blushes, looking down at his shoes, “It’s nothing.”

“Your girlfriend nagging at you? Valentine’s day is just around the corner.”

“No- she not my- it’s not like that.”

Stark lets out a laugh, “Have you asked her to be your Valentine?”

Peter gives up trying to argue, “Er- no.”

“That explains it. Whether or not she’s your girlfriend, by the way your face looks like a stop sign, you should ask her.”

“I don’t know--”

“Here’s some advice, kid. Flowers, not roses if she’s not your partner yet, maybe something exotic, and chocolate. You can never go wrong with chocolate.”

“Uh, thank you, sir.”

Some sort of flashback pops into Peter’s head, a spandex suit, a shield, but then it’s gone, that familiarity still tingling in the back of his mind.

“Well, I better head off. Remember, chocolate, flowers, sound confident.”

And just like he came, he’s off again, turning a corner and disappearing out of sight.

Peter stands there for a moment, dumbstruck that literally  _ Tony Stark _ had a conversation with him then just left like everything was normal. He still couldn’t shake that sense that he knew him as more than the famous hero. 

He just shakes his head, clearing it, then makes his way home, the oddness of it all slowly fading.

…

_ “This city’s friendly neighborhood Spider-man has yet to make an appearance in these months. His disappearance saddens us all and we have gotten many letters from kids asking him to come back. We as a community miss you…” _

The news blares on the tv as Peter chops vegetables in the kitchen.

“Peter, your friends are here.” Aunt May calls from the door, ushering Ned and MJ in.

He rinses his hands and goes to meet them.

“Hey guys.” He waves awkwardly.

MJ looks around his house, her face neutral.

_ Well, that’s better than disgusted. _

Ned smiles wide, “The Millennium Falcon in your room?”

“Millennium Falcon?”

Peter’s face flushes, “Yeah, uh, I got this, erm- lego set.”

MJ raises an eyebrow at him.

“I mean, if you don’t- you can-”

Ned cuts in, “He’s saying you can help us build it.”

Peter rubs the back of his neck, “Er, if you want to.”

“Are you kidding? Legos are greatly beneficial to the creative mindset and engineering, not to mention the stunning end result.”

The breath is almost knocked out of him, “You like legos?”

MJ gives him a half smile, “Who doesn’t?”

He smiles, letting out a sigh of relief, “Oh I’m glad, I thought you would think we’re weird or something.”

“Oh, you definitely are.”

Ned laughs, “Here, I’ll bring it out.”

Right as he leaves, Peter’s phone rings. 

“Uh, give me one sec.”

He steps into the hallway to answer, “Hello?”

_ “Is this Peter Parker?” _

“Yes, who is this?”

_ “My name’s Harley, I really need to talk to you.” _

“Do I know you?”

_ “No, but we need to discuss something important.” _

“Look, I’m sorry, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Something about the call felt off, that bizarre feeling he had earlier with Stark returning.

_ “I know this is weird and you have no reason to trust me... but it’s about Spider-man.” _

“Spider-man? What does that have anything to do with me? Didn’t the guy disappear months ago?”

Harley sighs on the other end of the phone, _ “That’s what I’m trying to explain. What memory do you have of the month of May this year?” _

“You do realize that’s personal information--”

_ “Just answer the question.” _

“I don’t know, the details are blurry. I think I was…” It takes him a moment to remember, “I think that’s when I started my Stark internship, I never saw the man during that time though. It eventually fell through.”

_ “Do you remember where you were?” _

“On a trip. I know I wasn’t at home.” Peter shakes his head, frustrated with what he had already told a complete stranger, “Why?”

_ “Don’t you think it’s odd you don’t remember that at all? You've got the vague details, but do you really understand any of it?” _

He pauses, thinking about it. Now that Harley mentioned it, he didn’t really know what had happened in that entire month. Several occasions before that had even become blurry and unclear.

_ “I’m going to take your silence as a ‘yes, that’s odd’. If you trust me now and are ready to talk, meet me at 69th avenue, near the Walgreens, tonight.” _

“Tonight? I have school--”

_ “Sneak out.” _

“I don’t know how to sneak out.”

_ “Trust me, you do.” _

He then hangs up, leaving nothing but a low static behind. 

Everything about the situation made Peter’s stomach clench but that was all thrown out his head as Ned calls from the living room.

“Peter?”

“Coming.”

Peter gives one last look at his phone then puts a smile on his face and walks out.

…

The alley was dark, dimly lit by a street lamp. Peter walked with his hands stuffed in his pockets and hood up. It had been horrible sneaking out, not that it was hard, just that he felt like he was doing something so wrong. 

“Peter?”

A voice calls from the shadows, the exact one from the phone call. 

“Harley?” Peter whispers.

“Look, I’m not selling you drugs. You don’t have to act like you’re waiting for a deal.” Harley steps out of the dark. 

He’s tall, taller than Peter with golden brown hair. He wears casual clothes, a hoodie and sweatpants. There’s no way he could be much older than Peter himself. For some reason, Peter relaxes in his presence. 

“Can you just tell me whatever it is so I can go home?” Peter grumbles. 

“Okay, grouchy.” The way he talks, combined with his body movements, reminded him of Mr. Stark. 

Harley’s tone goes serious, “Your mind’s been wiped.”

A few long seconds of silence draw out between them.

Then Peter laughs. 

Harley looks at him questioningly, “How is what I said funny?”

“You scared the living shit out of me to tell-” Peter pauses to take a breath between giggles, “to tell me some bullshit? My memory wiped? I’m not stupid, I remember my life, myself, just fine. Who are you and what do you want from me?”

“Of course you remember your life, do you even know how memory serum works?” 

Peter pauses, realizing he didn’t but not willing to admit it, “So?”

Harley rolls his eyes, “I came here to tell you that Tony’s been a wreck and I’m trying to convince him to give you your memories back. To give you everything back.”

“Everything?”

“You lost more than memories.”

“If what you’re saying is true, and I’m not sure if it is, what exactly did I lose?”

“Being Spider-man.”

Peter freezes, “Spider-man?”

“You were Spider-man. Webs. Pew pew.” He makes little gestures with his hands to describe the web shooters. 

“How- how is that possible? I’m just a regular kid, I don’t have superpowers, I don’t have enhanced abilities.” Peter rants, pacing back and forth. 

“But you do. Tony just dulled them to give you a chance at being normal. They’re there.”

“Wait, why would he take away my powers and memory wipe me? Did I do something? Hurt someone?” His voice grows quieter, suddenly concerned. 

“No, Tony freaked out after the whole civil war thing because when he brought you into the fight, you got hurt. You were fine but Tony couldn’t allow you to have your powers and suffer the burden of being a superhero.”

“Why do you care? Why are you telling me this? Is he going to give them back?”

Harley looks away, “Let’s just say, Tony’s my family and I hate to see him in pain. And no, he hasn’t agreed yet but that’s why I need you. I need you to help me convince him.”

“How?”

“He told me you said that you got your powers and you felt like you needed to use them to help people in need. Bring some of that righteous energy, and we can get him to do it.”

Those words did spark a sense of familiarity. It definitely sounded like something he would say, “Okay, when?”

“He leaves tomorrow evening for some presidential thing. Meet me at Stark Tower right after school.”

Peter nods, “He’ll give me my powers back? My memories?”

Harley grins, “That’s the plan. You in?”

Peter stops then smiles, “I’m in.”

Giddiness fills his mind. 

_ I’m Spider-man.  _

…

The day went by in a blur. Peter kept tapping impatiently at the floor and glancing at the clock. As soon as that bell rang, he bolted, not even bothering to tell Ned or MJ. 

The Stark Tower was a huge complex, and Peter gulped as he approached it, feeling dwarfed and small in its shadow. 

Harley waved at him, beckoning him inside. 

Peter hardened his resolve and stepped through the doors. 

Harley grinned, “Ready for a hellstorm?”

“Wha—”

Tony stomped towards them, glaring at Harley, “What did you do?”

“I’m trying to fix a problem you created.” He stands firm next to Peter, looking Tony dead in the eye. 

“What have you told him? You do realize how—”

“You wiped his memory and with it you lost him, and that’s devastated you more than you’ll say. Give him back his memories, give him back his powers.”

Tony’s eye twitches, “Harley, I can’t do that.”

“Yes, you can.”

“You’ve jeopardized the plan that I made to stop myself from antagonizing him, and you brought him here.”

“You can barely look at yourself in the morning, you even had to drag me out here 'cause you were lonely.”

“I did not.”

Harley sticks a finger in his face, “Yes you did. This kid wants his life back, important parts of him that you’ve taken away, and I would suggest you give them to him.”

“Can I say something?” Peter mumbles, intimidated by the two. 

They continue to glare at each other but do not reject. 

“I want my powers. I can do good in the world, so shouldn’t I? I don’t know what you took away but it’s affected me, and this entire community. So, please, give me back my powers.”

Tony’s gaze softens as he looks at Peter. He stares for several seconds before finally caving. 

“Fine. Follow me.”

Harley smiles wide at Tony’s back, giving Peter a wink. 

The giddiness returns to his stomach, making him feel like he’s flying. 

They arrive at Tony’s lab, which is scattered with spare parts and holographic designs but in the middle, a machine that looks similar to an MRI sits. 

“That’s what took your memories and I believe it’s what can give them back. Lay down. You’ll feel like you’re completely blank then it will all come back.” Tony gestures to the machine, a small smile on his face. 

Peter knew he was glad to do this, even if he had been hesitant. 

Peter climbs in, staring at the white interior of the machine. 

“One.”

He closes his eyes. 

“Two.”

He tenses. 

“Three.”

Nothing. Then… 

It comes rushing back, every memory from when he first stuck to a wall to when he was knocked down by Antman’s gigantic hand. The feeling of wind rushing around him as he swung through the streets of New York City, and the overwhelming pride in himself at his first criminal take-down. He can feel the strength returning, his senses hyper fixating on the whirring of the machine, the breathing of the two anxious people beside him. It’s all back. Everything.

_ I _ am  _Spider-man_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're having a nice day... thanks for reading ;)


	13. that's the beautiful thing about us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What is wrong with you today, H?" Peter leaned against the wall. "You've been acting so weird."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 13: betrayal
> 
> YOU GUYS IM SO SORRY FOR NOT POSTING THIS YESTERDAY also my scatterbrained ass literally wrote the WRONG prompt for today ansmdkaj
> 
> written by me :))

"Hey. Wanna see something cool?" Harley hovered over Peter, who was still in bed, a trickle of drool running down his chin that made Harley laugh.

"Peter. Bugboy. Hey-" Harley liked Peter persistently. "Come on! We have to go before Tony wakes up."

"Nuh… come back later," Peter groaned, his eyes still screwed shut, and Harley sighed, crossing his arms.

"Peter, get up!"

He pulled the blankets off the bed and Peter yelped in surprise.

"Seriously, I found something totally weird. You've gotta come check it out."

"Mhm… be there in an hour."

"We don't _have_ an hour. It might be gone by then. Seriously, Parker!" Harley pushed his hand against Peter's head softly, smoothing back his curls.

"Yeah, yeah, okay. Coming." Yawning, Peter sat up and blinked the tiredness out of his eyes. "It's only four? Harley!"

"I know, but this is totally insane, trust me."

Peter groaned again, standing up and stretching out his arms, his shirtless torso exposed as he walked to his closet to find a shirt.

"Hurry up-"

"I'm going as fast as I can, okay? Chill out."

Harley rolled his eyes.

"I've never met someone who takes longer to get ready than you."

"I've never met someone who can be so annoying at such early hours of the morning."

"Deal with it," Harley replied, shooting him a cocky grin.

"Okay, let's go. Make it quick 'cause I'd like to get a couple more hours in."

Harley led Peter out of the tower and across the street, the streetcars along the sidewalk and the lights in the business surrounding them creating so much illumination it almost seemed like daylight.

"The hell were you doing out here so early anyways?"

Harley shrugged.

"When I can't sleep, I like to go on walks sometimes."

"Walking through the city alone in the middle of the night? Don't you think that's a little dangerous?"

"You're usually out, anyways. If anything happened to me, I'd just alert Karen."

Peter stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"And who says I'd be able to save you?"

"You'd always save me, nerd. I don't doubt that."

"Oh. Okay."

As they walked, Harley looked over to see Peter staring at the ground, a slight blush on cheeks. He had to look down a bit to see his eyes, as Peter was a few inches shorter than him.

"Don't let that go to your head, bugboy."

"Yeah, I'll try."

"It's right up here," Harley said, pointing down into a small, dimly lit alleyways with the entrances to apartment buildings lining both sides.

"And… why, exactly, were you going down a creepy alley?"

"I _heard_ something. Stop being on my case so much! You sound like Happy."

Peter tensed suddenly, his hand extending to pull Harley back by the arm.

"Wait. Something's wrong."

"It's fine, Peter."

"No, there's danger."

"Just let me show you what I need to, okay? I think it might be the reason you're jumpy."

"I'm not _jumpy._ I'm cautious."

"In my book, it's the same thing."

Peter edged his way down the alley with Harley, his eyes darting around, ready for the slightest hint of a threat to show itself to him. Harley pointed at something on the ground, and Peter squinted, unsure of what it was.

"What… what the hell is that?!"

It was a sticky-looking black goop, spread along the cement, a reflective sheen over it that made the light shine on its surface. There was something so off about it, though and, when Peter bent down closer, he realized it was… pulsing. It was creeping its way along the cement, oozing into the cracks on the ground and pulling itself along, the shiny goop ending to form little arm tendrils to pull itself forward.

"I have no idea. Isn't it insane?"

"I… I don't even know what that could _be._ It- it isn't natural." Peter pulled out his phone and began taking pictures of it. "It's like it's…"

"Alive," Harley finished, nodding. He bent down next to Peter. He reached out, but Peter grabbed his hand, pulling it backwards.

"No. Definitely _do not_ touch it, Harley! Are you crazy? This stuff could be acid or something!"

Harley sighed.

"You're always so…"

"Cautious."

"Yeah."

"If I wasn't, I probably wouldn't be alive right now, to be honest."

Harley furrowed his eyebrows, leaning in to look closer at the substance.

"So, what should we do?"

Peter stood up.

"I think we should call Tony."

"Seriously?! The first thing you always want to do is call Tony. Why can't we handle something ourselves for once?"

"Because, Harley, we have no idea what this could be. It- it's freaking me out a little. I'd rather call him and avoid putting ourselves in any stupid situations."

The goop continued its slow path down the sidewalk, and neither of the boys noticed a miniscule tendril of black creeping its way towards them.

"Yeah, but…" Harley looked back down at the black, oozing substance. "Yeah. You're right. Let's call him."

Peter dialed his number, pressing the phone to his ear.

"Hi, Mr. Stark? Yes- er- yes, I realize what time it is- no, I'm not drinking, I-"

Harley covered his eyes, sighing.

"There's something Harley and I found, and we think you should come see it. _No,_ it isn't a puppy this time, I swear-" Peter closed his eyes. "It looks. Alien. Yeah. For real. Did you ever watch that really old movie, uh The Thing? Yeah, it's like that."

There was a pause, and then Peter nodded.

"Okay. Yeah. I'll send it to you. Yeah, we're on our way back right now. Sorry. Sorry."

He hung up, exhaling.

"What'd he say?"

"Well, besides him being pissed at me for waking him up on the first night he's slept in a week, he told me to text him the location and he'd send out one of his drones as soon as I do that."

"Great. Let's go home, then."

They walked away, ignorant of the fact that a piece of the dark, pulsing slime had disappeared.

***

"I've never seen anything like this before."

It was later in the morning now, and Tony, Peter, and Harley were staring into a glass holding compartment for the black substance. It was crawling around the container, as if searching for a way out.

"It's like it has a thought process of its own, but no brain," Peter spoke quietly. "Like… like a jellyfish or something, maybe."

Tony scratched his chin staring at the holographic display around it.

"Well, it isn't carbon-based, that's for sure. In fact, I don't recognize any of these components. These elements don't exist."

Harley tapped his pencil against the side of the compartment.

"I wouldn't do that," Tony warned. "Wouldn't wanna aggravate it."

Harley groaned, slumping back into his chair. Peter smirked.

"Speaking of aggravated, looks like someone didn't get enough sleep last night."

"Shut up, Parker."

"Okay!" Tony clapped his hands together. "I really don't have the patience to deal with hormonal teenage boys right now, as I didn't get that much sleep, myself."

Peter looked over at Tony, reverting his gaze from the curious goo.

"Where do you think it's from?"

Tony shrugged.

"Wouldn't surprise me if this disgusting stuff crawled its way out of Oscorp. Norman isn't exactly running legal experiments in that place, and this-'' he said, gesturing to the container- "looks like something his creepy team of scientists would come up with. However, my other theory is that this isn't from Earth at all."

"So like, aliens?" Peter asked, perking up. Harley rolled his eyes.

"Yeah. Aliens, genius. That's kinda what not-from-Earth means."

Peter shot Harley an irritated glance, who returned it without hesitation.

"You're being more… Harley Keener, the spectacular dickwad, then usual." Peter leaned back, making hand gestures to add to his dramatic description.

Tony shook his head.

"Look, I'm gonna run some more tests. You kids run along, now. And play nice."

"We will," Peter said, grabbing his bag and walking out of the room. "Hey, H, wanna go hit up Times Square?"

It was a usual event for the two on the rare occasions they had free time; they would spend the entire day running around the area, eating ice cream and window-shopping in all the fancy-looking department stores. Sometimes, they'd go in and, usually, chaos followed, with Harley trying to balance as many hats at once on his head or Peter working his way one-by-one through the extremely expensive sunglasses while Harley rated how good each pair looked.

"No, I think I'll go train."

"Oh." Peter was disappointed. Harley _always_ wanted to go to Times Square. He was always rambling on and on about how he never got to see stuff like that growing up on a farm, so he wanted to enjoy it as much as he could. "Okay, then."

"Yeah. See you later, Parker."

He walked off and Peter huffed, watching as Harley's brown hair disappeared around the corner.

***

"What are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd just... train with you."

Harley rolled his eyes at Peter, who was standing in front of him in sweatpants and one of Tony's old shirts.

"I'd rather you not."

"Aw, c'mon! Why not?"

"Because you're annoying."

Peter jutted out his lower lip.

"That's rude."

Harley groaned. He just didn't have the _patience_ for this right now, and some part of him was itching to _make_ Peter leave.

"Can I just train on my own and not be bothered by you for once? God, you're always acting like a spoiled child."

Peter looked genuinely hurt by that one, but Harley didn't really care right now. It was like red danced at the edge of his vision, some unconscious voice in his head telling him to be the aggressor.

"What is wrong with you today, H?" Peter leaned against the wall. "You've been acting so weird."

Harley clenched his fists and Peter tensed suddenly.

"I- there's danger," he said, his eyes looking around the room in nervousness.

"You're such a fucking idiot, Parker," Harley muttered.

"Woah. That one was uncalled for, Harley."

"Why do always have to be nagging me? I don't _want_ you to try and tag along with me everywhere. You get so on my nerves. The only reason I pretend to have fun with you is because Tony wants me to."

Peter stepped back, taken aback by Harley's words, his sense of danger forgotten in the tense moment.

"Why are you being such a dick?!"

"Maybe because I'm sick and tired of your bullshit! I'm so tired of pretending to tolerate you!"

Harley didn't know where the words were coming from, but he sure as hell knew they felt _good_ coming out of his mouth. His heart was beating faster now, and he was acutely aware of every sound in the room, from Peter's heavy breathing to the sound of air whooshing out of the vent above him.

"Stay the fuck away from me, Peter, or you won't like what happens."

Peter, his eyes wide and his mouth parted in an expression of shock, turned around and stormed out. Right after he left, Harley felt a wave of emotions sweep through him and he collapsed, almost feeling as though his real self was coming back to him.

"What the hell?" He whispered to himself. "What the hell did I just do?"

Something was whispering to him in the back of his mind. He didn't know what it was but it opened up a pit of dark burning anger inside him. He wanted it _out._

_Such pain, Harley Keener,_ the voice whispered to him and his eyes widened, sweat beading onto his forehead as he struggled to determine where that statement had come from.

_So much, it will be perfect for us._

"Who the fuck are you?!" Harley shouted, standing up and whipping around as if it was behind him. Even as he looked, he knew it was hopeless, as the speaker had come from within his very mind. 

_I suspect you'll find out soon enough. You have such… strong feelings for that boy, little one. Feelings of love. Feelings of… oh, lust, I see. I have turned those into feelings of rage, of undying fury. Who cares about something as meager and insignificant as love?_

"Get out of my head. Get out of my head!"

_Let's go find him, shall we? I'd love to see where this goes._

Harley had to find Peter. Peter would help him. He'd tell him it was a mistake; he didn't hate him. In fact, he couldn't stand the thought of being without him.

So he went. He didn't know where he was going or how he was going to do it, but he set off to find him, a new seed of determination planted in his brain, his footsteps moving one by one as if some puppeteer was pulling on the strings of his limbs, moving him wherever he needed him to go.

***

Peter was perched on a ledge about twenty stories off the ground, his hands sticking to the wall and his feet dangling out over the outcropping. He breathed out through his mask, gazing at the people walking below him and trying to push Harley out of his mind. A pigeon flew past his face, squeaking at him as it went by.

_It's a great day for crime, Peter,_ he said to himself. _Let's stay on track._

He had already stopped one rather idiotic pair of muggers, and was now waiting for another easy win to show up and distract him from the problems of his other life.

Luckily for him, he didn't have to wait long.

His bearing picked up on the sound of a shouting woman, coming from the alleyway just below him.

"Karen, activate my reconnaissance drone," he said, and the tiny spider on the front of his suit flew off, a small camera showing him the surroundings of the drone. (Yeah, maybe it wasn't necessary, but Peter really liked it.)

When the drone had stopped its descent and was shivering in the alleyway, Peter zoomed in, trying to locate where the noise had come from.

"There's… nothing there," he muttered, partly to himself and partly to his AI. "Maybe I'm just hearing things."

"There was a reported disturbance in the area ten minutes ago."

"Okay… maybe we should just go check it out, huh, Karen?"

"Yes. Exercise caution, Peter."

"Will do."

He swung down quietly, landing at the edge of the alleyway. He couldn't see much, but he definitely felt that there was danger.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are…" he called, edging his way around a dumpster. "Really, I'm not having the best day, so if you could just help me out here, that'd be great."

Someone walked out of the door in front of him and Peter felt himself tense, ready to spring.

"I- er- Harley?"

"Yeah? What?" Harley was standing in front of him, his hair disheveled and the bottom of his shirt ripped.

"What are you doing here?"

Harley paused for a moment, his eyes fixated over Peter's head. It looked like he was… frozen.

"I'm just going for a walk," he said suddenly, stepping closer to Peter. "You know me."

"You're about three miles away from the tower. You walked all the way over here in less than an hour?"

Harley shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Yep."

"I- okay," Peter said. Harley looked up at him and stepped forward to place his hand on Peter's shoulder, but he stepped away instinctively, his entire body screaming _Danger! Run!_

"Hey, bud. What's up? Wanna go grab some ice cream?" Harley sent him a grin.

"No- Harley, I- I think we should just go home."

Harley's smile turned into a frown.

"Ah, come _on_ . You're such a fucking buzzkill. Always ruining this and that. _Let's call, Tony, c'mon, Harley, I'm scared, let's call the adults before I shit myself-"_ he snickered and Peter took a step back. This was all wrong. Yeah, Harley could be rude, and yeah, he could be snappy, but it was never like _this._

"Harley, I'm taking you back to the tower." He reached out to take his hand but he snapped it back, shooting Peter a menacing glare.

"No!" He shouted, but… something about the way he said it chilled Peter to the bone. Although the glare in his eyes was cold and hard, his voice had sounded desperate. Fearful.

"Come on. Let's go." The sense of danger made him buzz. He tried to step closer to Harley but he backed up this time, gasping as he hit the door behind him.

"Seriously, Harley, what the hell is going on with you?"

"I don't want- I can't- _move_!" Harley screamed, and Peter just barely had time to leap out of the way of a slimy, back tendril that had appeared to come out of Harley's own… hand?

"Holy shit!" He said, standing up and turning around to ave Harley. "What- I- huh?"

Harley began to walk forward.

"You have quite the hold on him, Peter Parker,"he said, but his voice had changed. Peter watched, frozen with fear, as Harley's entire body was covered with black goop, swirling around him and enlarging until he had become a figure at least twice the size of Peter, black and shiny and horrible. The worst thing about him was his _face-_ it almost resembled his mask but in such a way that it looked grotesque and unformed, his eyes white and expressionless. His mother stretched from one end of his face to the other, and, as Peter stood, a long, red tongue curled its way out, and the creature gave him a menacing smile.

"Such strong emotions will help Venom."

"I, uh- did you just refer to yourself in the third person?"

Venom's smile disappeared and he began to move towards Peter.

"You're annoying, little bug. I will squash you before I take over the world." Peter backed up as he advanced. "Your friend has plenty of emotion inside him to feed off of. He does not realize how quickly love can be turned into hate." He spat at the ground, disgusting saliva dripping off his teeth. Peter shot a web at him and he grunted, reaching to his arm and pulling it off effortlessly.

"Love is a poison, Peter Parker. Venom… is truth."

"Yeah, I highly doubt that." Peter sprang upwards as the monster lashed a giant hand out at him. "Give me back my friend, please!"

Venom laughed.

"He is mine now. We are one."

They went back and forth for a while, Peter trying to formulate a plan while Venom leaped and bounded around the alleyway, his sticky tendrils keeping him from being injured in any way by Peter. There was no way he could take him on physically.

"Hey, buddy, I'm trying to do my job, here!" He shouted in exasperation as a web grenade went straight through the substance the creature was made of. Venom grinned.

"You cannot defeat me, little spider. I am going to be the savior of this world."

Suddenly, a bus drove by, honking its horn at what was probably the everyday crazy driver on the city streets. When it did, though, he didn't miss the way Venom flinched, groaning.

"A weakness? Hey, Karen, can you help me make a high-decibel sound projector in the next ten seconds?"

"Working on it."

Peter continued to dodge, but his hand met sticky slime and he was pushed backwards into the wall, Venom slamming his body into it so hard that Peter's head throbbed in pain. He gave Peter another terrible smile.

"And now, you will see _my_ power, Peter Parker!"

He hit Peter hard in the stomach and Peter shouted, feeling one of his ribs crack. Venom threw him to the ground and he laid there, struggling to breathe. When he turned around Venom was standing over him, one of his hands transformed into a long, jagged blade.

"Harley," Peter gasped. "If you're still in there, now would be a really good time to get out!"

"Don't know how!" Muffled thought it was, Peter could hear the other boy's voice. "I'm sorry," he said, and Peter shook his head as Venom pinned him down by the throat, peeling up his mask and throwing it aside so his face was exposed.

"Not… your… fault," he struggled to say. Venom's long tongue stuck out as he leaned his face so close to Peter he could smell his rancid breath. "Karen! Need- help!" He hoped the AI could still hear him even though his mask was on the other side of the alley.

"Your friend is going to watch you die, bug," Venom spat, sticky drool rolling off his tongue onto Peter's face, clenching his fist harder around his neck. "And it will feel so, so, good."

"No, Peter! Stop it! I-" Harley continued to fight back from inside.

"It's okay, Harley," Peter whispered, the last of his breath leaving him. Venom raised the blade, and he closed his eyes.

_If this is how I die,_ he thought, _I hope someone will help him get out._

He pressed the blade into Peter's chest slowly, painstakingly, and Peter gasped as it broke though his skin and pushed its way deeper into his body. His hand released from around the creature's wrist and he gave up, keeping his eyes closed as he waited.

Suddenly, there was a shriek so loud that Venom leaped off Peter, running around to find the source of the noise. Luckily, Karen had finally been able to reprogram his drone to project the sound. As Peter lay on the ground, trying to breathe again, he watched in awe as the black goop that made up Venom began to physically separate itself from Harley's body. Harley collapsed onto his knees, screaming and covering his ears. Peter desperately wanted to help him, but he knew this was the only way to get Venom _out._ Eventually, after a few more moments of that god-awful shrieking, there was a small tendril of black goo on the ground next to Harley, who fell over promptly, nearly unconscious. Peter rolled over and stood up despite the sparks of pain shooting up his body, kicking the substance away from them both. He watched as his reconnaissance drone flew down and sucked it up into a clear tube before leaving, probably on its way to Stark Tower.

"Shit- Harley, are you okay?" Peter bent down beside Harley, simultaneously placing his hand over his chest to feel the warmth of blood soaking into his suit. "Harley, wake up."

He poked him and Harley gasped, his eyes shooting open as he sat up so suddenly it made Peter flinch backwards.

"Peter- I couldn't- and you were-"

"I know. That was messy. I'm sorry."

"It's my fault. It's all my fault. I brought you out there and then I said all those awful things to you that I don't mean, I don't mean them, Peter, I really like you. Like, a lot. And… and then, fuck, I hurt you," he said, his hand wavering over the bloody spot on Peter's torso.

"It wasn't you. And none of that was your fault. It's okay."

Harley looked down.

"I- I just remember feeling so _angry_ and I don't know why but I said those things even though I hated myself for it right after. I don't think you're terrible, Peter. I… I think you're pretty great, actually." Harley shook his head. "God, my brain feel so fucked right now. I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing," Peter replied, laughing softly. "Trust me, it wasn't your fault. What's important is that you got that… _thing_ out of you, and you're okay. We can deal with all the other shit later."

"Okay. Yeah." Harley nodded, looking up at Peter. "You- you should probably do something about that, though," he said, pointing to the wound on Peter's chest.

"Yeah, probably. I'll be fine for right now."

They sat in the alleyway for a few more moments, catching their breath.

"Hey, Peter?"

"Yeah?"

"I just… wanted to say thank you. For not… letting me be alone all the time." He smiled to himself, looking up at the sky. "I…" he trailed off, too scared to say what was in his head.

"You're pretty great, too," Peter spoke softly, scooting closer. "When you're not… being inhabited by a malicious parasite, you know."

"Yeah." Harley laughed. "Damn. What kind of issues must we have to just be laughing at almost getting ourselves killed?"

Peter smiled.

"We've got a lot."

"Well, I'd rather have issues with you than be perfect with anyone else."

"You mean that?"

Harley nodded.

"Yeah, Parker. I do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Day 14 will be up in a few hours!


	14. a moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 14: "I didn't mean it."
> 
> written by M :)

The sweet aroma of coffee brewing and eggs sizzling on a pan lures Tony out of his sleep. He pictures his super soldier husband standing by the stove with that flowery apron he likes, cast in morning sunlight, hair still messy and tossed from running his hands through it. The thought alone brings Tony to his feet, walking in a dreamlike state to the kitchen.

He wraps his arms around Steve at the stove.

“Good morning, sunshine.”

Steve turns around in Tony’s arms to plant a kiss on his lips, “Good morning.”

His voice wraps Tony in bliss, and he couldn’t believe he had gotten so lucky. They had been torn away from each other again and again, yet they always found their way back. It was an exhausting road but finally, they decided to tie the knot and promise themselves to each other. 

Somehow when Tony was with him, all his anxiety, problems, everything, just melted away. Even the regular stubbornness and sarcasm lost its edge.

Tony holds onto Steve, breathing in his comforting scent, “What’s on the agenda today?”

Steve laces his fingers through his hair, “Only the usual, saving the world and whatnot.”

“Ugh, but I don’t want to.” He pouts, frowning playfully.

Steve laughs, a joyful sound, one not heard often, “I’m sorry, babe, but we have work.”

“I don’t like work.”

“None of us do.”

“Can’t we just go back to bed?”

“I’m afraid not, and you’re making my eggs burn.”

Steve turns around to continue his scrambling of eggs. Tony kisses his cheek before moving to grab a cup of coffee. 

This morning felt like they were in a haze. For a moment, there were no problems. For a moment, it was just them. For a moment, everything was right in the world.

But only for a moment.

_ “Mr. Stark, there is a visitor outside Stark Tower.”  _

FRIDAY alerts them.

Everything in him deflates, the dreamy happiness fades, “Who is it?”

_ “The Secretary of State.” _

Tony looks back at Steve who paused in his cooking, “This can’t be good.”

“Get the others.”

Steve removes his apron and steps out the kitchen.

Of course, their happiness could only last a moment.

…

“The world owes the Avengers an unpayable debt,” Thaddeus Ross, the Secretary of State, looks through the group consisting of Wanda, Vision, Rhodey, Natasha, Sam, Tony, and Steve, “You have fought for us, protected us, risked your lives. But while a great many people see you as heroes there are some who would prefer the word vigilantes.”

Tony zones out of what he’s saying. Him and Steve make eye contact, and concern crosses his face. Right now, neither of them knew what was going to happen next. 

Secretary Ross pulls up footage from the attacks they were involved in. Footage of the aliens in New York unfolds before them. Muted screams, pure terror. The helicarriers from D.C. burning in the sky. An entire city hovering in the clouds then crashing down onto hundreds of citizens.

By now, Tony could feel a twist in his gut.

_ My fault. My fault. _

Steve sees him staring down at his hands and turns to Ross, “Okay, that’s enough.”

Ross steps back, surveying them, “For the past four years you’ve operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That’s an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate.”

He pauses, motioning to a guard at his left, “But I think we have a solution.”

After being handed a book, he slides it to the first person at the table, Wanda.

“The Sokovia Accords.”

He walks around the table as the book is passed around, describing what it means, how they can no longer function as a private organization, they need to be supervised and controlled.

The blood was roaring in Tony’s ears, and he could barely comprehend his surroundings. He feels Steve intertwining his fingers in his and the storm calms, ever so slightly. Tony tries to plant himself in the feeling, the quiet relief.

Steve takes a second to glare down at the Accords, “The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place.” He glances at Tony, “I think we’ve done that.”

The words were meant for him to hear, not the Secretary. They were words of reassurance.

Ross walks away from the super soldier, back to the head of the table, “Compromise, reassurance. That’s how the world works. Believe me, this is the middle ground.”

In three days the UN would ratify the Accords.

Tony felt like he was on a sinking ship, the only thing keeping him aboard the man at his side. All he wanted was to get them to safety. He wanted to keep them together, to make sure they could fulfill their promises. It was hard enough finding him, being lucky enough to marry him? It was his greatest pride in life. Right now, they needed a promise for the future. 

Ross looks around once again, “Talk it over.”

He begins to leave.

“And if we come to a decision you don’t like?” Natasha looks up.

“Then you retire.”

A small smile plays on Nat’s lips, not that it had anything to do with the dire circumstances they’d been put in.

The Secretary leaves them, knowing he ripped a gaping hole in their entire system.

…

“Secretary Ross has a Congressional Medal of Honor, which is one more than you have.” Rhodey spits at Sam.

“So let’s say we agree to this thing. How long is it going to be before they LoJack us like a bunch of common criminals?” Sam argues in exasperation.

“117 countries want to sign this. 117, Sam, and you’re just like, ‘Nah, that’s cool’.”

“How long are you going to play both sides?”

Vision interrupts their bickering, “I have an equation.”

“Oh, this will clear it up.” Sam mutters sarcastically.

Vision ignores his statement, “In the eight years since Mr. Stark announced himself as Iron Man, the number of known enhanced persons has grown exponentially. During the same period, the number of potentially world ending events has risen at a commensurate rate.” 

Steve pauses to look at him, “Are you saying it’s our fault?”

“I’m saying there may be a causality. Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict,” he looks around them slowly, “breeds catastrophe. Oversight... oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand.”

“Boom.” Rhodey smirks at Sam.

Nat looks over at Tony, “You’re being uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal.”

Steve sighs, knowing the thoughts running through Tony’s head, “He’s already made up his mind.”

“Oh honey, you know me so well.” He snaps at his husband.

The twist in Tony’s gut does not loosen. He stands to retrieve his discarded cup of coffee, “Who is putting coffee grounds in the disposal? Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?”

He sets down his mug to pull up a hologram showing the stats of everyone who died or was severely injured in the events Ross mentioned, “We did that.”

The room goes quiet as the electronic device scrolls through rows and rows of people.

“Every one of those people had a life, a family. Maybe they lived there or were trying to see the world. We won’t ever know because we took their lives.”

Steve gazes at him, sadness clear as day, he knows where this is going, “Tony--”

He shakes his head, “We  _ killed  _ them.”

Tony comes across the counter, all the previous joy from this morning wiped away, “There’s no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check. Whatever form that takes, I’m game. If we can’t accept limitations, if we’re boundary-less, we’re no better than the bad guys.”

“Tony, people died but that doesn’t mean we give up.” Steve pleads.

He keeps Steve’s stare, “Who says we’re giving up?”

“We are if we’re not taking responsibility for our actions. This document just shifts the blame.”

Rhodey cuts him off, “I’m sorry, Steve, but that is dangerously arrogant. This is the United Nations we’re talking about. It’s not the World Security Council, it’s not S.H.I.E.L.D., it’s not Hydra.”

“No, but it’s run by people with agendas, and agendas change.”

Tony laughs, “That’s good, that’s why I’m here. When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, I shut it down and stopped manufacturing.”

Steve turns in his seat to face him, “Tony, you chose to do that. If we sign this we surrender our right to choose.”

_ Did he really think he was sacrificing their freedom?  _

They stare each other down, neither of them backing down.

Tony sighs.

_ Weren’t we happy just a moment ago? _

…

“How can you make that decision without me?!”

“What was there to decide. We are a hazard, we can’t just keep frollicing around while people get hurt.”

Steve paces, “Tony, this affects both our lives. If I choose not to sign then what? I’m a criminal? What do we do then?”

Tony massages his brow, “That’s why you sign. We need to stick together, we need to push through all this hard stuff together so no one ends up being dragged under the bus, or become a criminal.”

“This is not something you can choose for us. We’re  _ married _ . Do you understand what that means? If the panel decides to separate us we have no control over that, we have no choice in the matter.”

“They can’t just separate us. Even if they did, it wouldn’t be forever. We’ve always come back, even after being dragged through hell. Some dusty panel members aren’t going to destroy our relationship.”

“Tony, they can take away your suit and you’re no longer Iron Man. They can’t take back my super soldier serum, so if they consider me as ‘dangerous’ they’ll lock me up.”

He stares at Steve, “You think the only thing that makes me Iron Man is my suit?”

“That’s the only thing they’ll care about.”

“So I’m just a fancy suit?”

Steve throws his hands in the air, “Oh, not this again.”

“Not this again?! You mean the fact that you continue to narrow me down to the shiny metal I wear? Of course that’s the only reason I’m ‘super’.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”

Steve stops his pacing to look Tony dead in the eye, “I am not going to feed your ego so you can believe you’re invincible. You became Iron Man to protect people, so you do that, everytime we save the world. Yet, somehow this tiny smudge on your resumé makes you want to throw away everything we’ve worked for.”

“Tiny smudge? You mean the families destroyed? You mean the thousands of lives that have been lost?”

“And it could’ve been billions or even everyone on this entire planet if we hadn’t been there.”

“Steve, I’m signing the Accords. We need the supervision.”

“Once again. Without even consulting me  _ and  _ going against my wishes, you’re making a decision that could ruin our lives.”

Tony snaps, “Don’t you even dare. Don’t pretend you’re some almighty righteous hero, the blood of those people are on your hands too. You are not always right and you are not right about this. You were stuck in ice for 60 years. The world has changed, so either you change or you get left behind. And you want to base me down to my suit? You know just as much as I do that you would have never gotten as far as I have if you didn’t get the serum. You would’ve been some poor little boy left on the streets, forgotten by history.”

Steve halts, hurt flashing in his eyes.

He realises what he said and instantly regrets it, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

Steve looks him up and down, backing towards the door. “I have to go.”

“Wait, please.”

The pain is evident now, written in every line in his body, “Don’t come after me.”

“Steve, no.”

There’s a pause, like the entire room is holding their breath to see what happens next. For just a moment, Tony thinks he’ll stop, that he’ll turn around and walk into his arms. 

He opens the door, giving Tony one last look, “Hopefully, we’ll find our way back.”

And he’s gone. He won’t sign so the moment the panel knows, they’ll come looking for him.

Tony feels himself break, feels a part of him crumble away. 

_ One moment, everything was okay. The next, the world came crashing down. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


	15. i have a banquet to attend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You came for my banquet?”
> 
> He tucks her hair behind her ear, “Of course, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 15: "Run. Don't look back."
> 
> Short and sweet for you today <3
> 
> written by M :)

A soft  _ ping  _ coming from Peter’s pocket makes him jump in his seat.

“Mr. Parker, do you need to step outside?” His teacher stands with his arms crossed.

Peter shakes his head, “No, sir.”

_ Ping. _

_ Ping. _

“Mr. Parker, go take care of that and stop disrupting my class.”

He blushes, his face heating up quickly. Peter steps out of the room to check his phone.

Mr. Stark: Hey, kid, you free this evening?

Mr. Stark: I need you to babysit, date night

Ned: OH MY GOD I JUST SAW THE CUTEST DOG *one attachment*

Peter laughs at the messages.

P: Yeah, I can babysit tonight

Mr. Stark: Great, 6pm Stark Tower. Come with a plan, Morgan can be a handful

P: Sounds good, see ya then

He re-enters his class, “Sorry about that, sir.”

…   
  


“Toys are in the closet, her pajamas are laid out for her, she has her favorite books prepared, and--”

“Come on, dear, Peter knows how to take care of a kid for a few hours.” Pepper tugs at Tony’s arm.

He slowly allows himself to be pulled away, “Mac and cheese is on the counter, make sure she eats all her carrots.”

“I got this, Mr. Stark.” Peter smiles.

Pepper finally pushes him out the door, wordlessly mouthing “thank you”.

Morgan comes around the corner, clothed in an Elsa dress and tiara, “Peter!”

She runs and jumps to hug him, “Hey kid!”

“You came for my banquet?”

He tucks her hair behind her ear, “Of course, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

She looks him up and down, “You need a gown, and a tiara.”

Peter feigns being offended, “Are my clothes not good enough?”

She puts her hands on her hips, “Not for my ball. You need a makeover.”

“Okay, but don’t you want some dinner?”

“Dress first.”

He lets her drag him into her room. 

“Sit.”

Morgan pushes him into a chair.

Peter laughs. The resemblance between her and Tony was uncanny. They did things their way.

She fits him with a crown and hands him a bright pink dress that could fit a three year old.

“I don’t want to break it.” Peter says nervously.

“Don’t worry, it’s my least favorite.”

“Ah, of course you give me the worst one.”

She tilts her head up, grabbing a wand, “That’s what you get when you’re late to the banquet.”

He laughs as he struggles to fit the dress over his head. Stretched to the limit, it fits as a crop top.

Morgan looks him over with a stern gaze, “I approve. Now, escort me to the banquet.”

He marches in front of her to the dining room.

Peter pulls back her seat, “Your highness.”

She gives him a pat on the head before sitting down, “Bring the dish.”

He smiles, walking to the kitchen to prepare her mac and cheese and carrots. 

As he arranges the food on her favorite plate, he hears the sound of glass shattering. He’s instantly on alert, the initial noise came from further away, on another floor of the building.

“Peter?”

Morgan runs into the kitchen, tiara on the floor, “What was that?”

Peter strokes her hair as she hugs his legs, “I don’t know.”

Footsteps, low muttering. His heightened senses hear it maybe a floor or two above them. 

He kneels down to Morgan’s level, her eyes were wide, “I’m going to go check it out. You stay here, eat a carrot.”

She frowns, “I don’t like carrots.”

He smiles, “Okay, this time, you can have a cookie. Don’t tell your dad.”

She giggles, the fear momentarily shifted, “Okay.”

Peter sets his crown on the counter and walks out of the kitchen. He attaches his web shooters onto his wrists. 

The voices sound like they’re closer. Coming down the stairs.

_ Whoever they are, they can’t get near Morgan. _

The mere fact that they were able to break in without triggering FRIDAY meant they were clever, and on a mission.

He slowly steps out into the hallway, listening closely.

“Their system’s down, we are good to go.”

“Lucky we just caught the two leaving, this should be an easy steal.”

“You see, that would be true.” Peter moves out of the shadows, “But I’m here.”

The thieves stop in their tracks. Masks cover their faces. 

The taller one, holding some sort of gadget in his hands looks him over, “Who the hell are you?”

The other one, sounding more feminine, laughs, “Nice costume, did we miss the tea party?”

“No, that’s not-" Peter sighs, “well, I have a banquet to return to, so can we make this quick?”

They pull out guns.

“I guess not.”

Peter goes for the taller one first, webbing up his gadget. The other tries to aim a shot but he swings over and kicks the gun out of their hands. A punch lands on his back, knocking him out of momentum. A shot fires, hitting the floor inches from his face. 

“That wasn’t very nice.”

He rolls away from the next shot, and it hits the floorboards where his head had been a second before. Peter knocks both their guns to the ground, tripping the tall one but the woman catches his foot before it can land on her stomach. She flips him with uncharacteristic strength, making him fall hard on his back. 

“Hurry up.” She mutters to her companion. 

“No, I don’t think so.”

Peter punches her hard in the face, webbing her to the floor. 

“Just fucking throw it.” She hisses. 

Peter whips around in time to see the other throw a canister between them. It instantly sprays out gas in a thick fog. 

He holds his breath but he can feel it soak into his pores, dulling the feeling in his body. 

For some reason the other two are not affected by the smoke suffocating Peter, bringing him to his knees. 

“Peter!”

Morgan stands, trembling at the other end of the hallway. 

“What do we have here?”

The man takes a step in her direction and Peter sparks to life. His instincts kick in, demanding he protect her. He lurches forward and takes out the man’s legs as he falls to the floor, crying out in pain. 

“Morgan, listen to me. Run, don’t look back, just run.”

Her face swims in his vision, tilting unsteadily, but he sees her turn and disappear. 

“Bitch.”

The man raises his foot, and it’s the last thing Peter sees before he crashes into darkness. 

…

Peter jolts awake and instantly regrets it. His back aches from the hit and his jaw was definitely bruised. 

He surveys the room, realizing it’s his home in Stark Tower. Trash litters the floor and his desk is piled with paper, just how he left it not too long ago. 

“Ah, you’re awake.” Tony walks in. 

“Peter!”

He just sees a flash of brown hair before the little human throws herself on top of him. 

“Ow!”

Morgan nuzzles into his arm, ignoring his shout, “You slept all day and missed my banquet.”

Peter groans, “Oh no! Can I come to the next one?”

She thinks about it, “I guess I can squeeze you in.”

He smiles, hugging the little girl. 

Tony finally shoos her off the bed, “Scram, the kid needs to rest.”

She giggles and runs out the room, “Don’t be late this time!” She calls on her way out. 

Peter laughs, “She really is your little spawn.”

He turns more serious, “So what happened last night?”

Tony shrugs, “Two thieves, they were trying to steal something from my lab. Crazy of them to even try. Morgan called us and said you were in trouble, we got there and took them down, you were passed out by then.”

Peter sighs, “Glad you guys got here in time. I was worried about Morgan.”

Tony walks to the door, “Good thing she’s got a big brother like you to keep an eye on her.”

A part of Peter lights up at being considered her “big brother”. 

“Now rest, you have a banquet to attend soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Morgan are so cute lolll
> 
> Have a great day, thanks for reading!!


	16. and you'll make me feel at home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Peter, you can always come to us if you need help. You don't need to feel bad."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 16: broken bones
> 
> dt the person who said they wanted some fluffy mom Nat/Wanda
> 
> written by me :)

"No, that's not what I'm saying."

"Yes it is! I swear it is!"

"Kid, it isn't… ugh. Okay, look. Come over here."

Natasha pulled Peter into his side, gripping the front of him with her strong arm. Wanda stood beside them, looking on curiously.

"Listen. Sometimes when you get pinned, it doesn't matter how much strength you have. What matters is your ability to maneuver out of the grip of someone else."

"Yeah, I get that part."

Natasha pressed harder now, interlocking her arms in a way that wouldn't let Peter escape.

"Now get out."

He pushed his way out easily, worming his way under Nat's legs and standing up to face her. She crossed her arms in front of him, and Wanda shook her head, trying to control her giggles.

"You cheated," she accused, and Peter rubbed the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. "Go again, and  _ don't  _ try to use your strength this time."

She put him back in the same hold and this time Peter struggled for a while longer, trying to use skill rather than brute force to slip out of her grip. When he had no luck he fell limp, catching his breath.

"Okay, you win."

Natasha gave a small, victorious smile, letting go of him.

"You're getting better, Parker."

"He's doing really well," Wanda agreed.

"I don't understand why you want me to train without using my strength. It seems pointless, if you ask me." Peter unrolled the wraps on his hands, wiping the sweat off his forehead with a small towel. "It's not like I'm just gonna  _ not  _ have my powers one day."

"You never know," Natasha said, stepping up to him. "Things can change in an instant, and you need to be ready for anything."

"Yeah, I guess."

Natasha shared a glance with Wanda, who was leaning with her back against the glass window of the compound.

"Maximoff, why don't you show Peter what I'm talking about?"

"Of course." Wanda lifted her hands and a red glow emitted from them, swirling around the room. The tendrils wrapped around Peter's legs, pulling him to the ground with a magical force much stronger than his own body.

"Hey! No fair!"

Natasha stepped back.

"Fights aren't fair, Peter. Work your way out."

Peter wriggled around under the red blanket coating, which Wanda had created to imitate the grip Natasha had on him earlier. Flipping around, he bent forward and pulled as hard as he could, groaning with the effort.

"Find your opportunity," Natasha barked. "A weak spot, perhaps."

Peter gripped one of the smoky clouds, almost surprised that it was solid, and bent it backwards. Wanda, her eyes glowing red, pushed back, but Peter managed to dodge the blow, instead using the force of it to grab on and pull himself a little farther.

"That's good! Now you're getting it."

He was determined now, wrapping his hands around another part of the magical restraints. When Wanda sent another blow, he grabbed onto her force, pulling himself out again. Finally, he was able to stand up, shaking himself off as the smoke disappeared.

"Please never make me do that again," he gasped, and Natasha laughed.

"You're a quick learner. That's good."

Wanda smiled.

"Oh, please. I definitely went easy on him."

Peter grinned, and Natasha leaned down to pick up her water bottle.

"I think we should call it for now. You have patrol in an hour."

"Yeah. Thanks for that, guys."

Wanda sent him a soft smile.

"Anytime you need training partners, give us a call."

"Definitely."

Peter was elated after they had left the room. He couldn't wait to tell Ned all about his training session with two of the most badass Avengers. As he stepped into the shower to clean some of the sweat off his body, he hummed to himself, tired but proud. When he got out, he went to go get ready for patrol, padding quietly down the empty hallways. The compound was basically empty except for him, Nat, Wanda, and a few security guards, because most of the others were either away or, in the case of Tony and Steve, off on a vacation.

Stepping out of the compound with his suit in his backpack, he set off for the train station.

***

"Do you think we went a little overboard?" Natasha asked skeptically. "I don't want to scare him out of this."

Wanda shrugged, leaning against the counter as she peeled an orange.

"I think he'll be fine. You did good, you know."

"Thanks, so did you."

Wanda threw an orange slice at her, which she caught gracefully and bit into.

"Place is too quiet without Tony and Clint going at it every few minutes."

"I like the quiet, I think. I don't get it often."

"I'll say."

They sat at the kitchen for a while, Wanda focused on her orange and Natasha letting her legs be propped up on the counter as she fiddled with her pocket knife.

"Kinda funny that they left us to handle the kid, huh?"

Wanda laughed, sticking the last piece of orange into her mouth and turning around to wash her hands.

"That's alright. I don't really have anywhere else to go, and I like Peter." She hesitated before continuing. "He reminds me of my brother, in some ways."

Nat nodded, leaning back.

"Yeah, I can see that." She smiled to herself. "He's a good kid. He's got… spirit, I guess. We definitely need more of that around here."

In a few minutes, the outside lights had begun to turn on as the sun began its descent below the horizon. Wanda sat at the large dining table, reading a book while Natasha immersed herself in the news, flipping through the channels and looking for the most interesting stories. It felt so odd to her to have nothing to do; she was just sitting around, not waiting for a case, not running codes on her laptop, just… using her free time for whatever she wanted. While part of her itched to do something other than this, like go out and look for a case to follow, she also enjoyed being able to do whatever she wanted. Not having to look over her shoulder for the people who might be following her.

When FRIDAY alerted them they had a call she jumped up, startled. Pressing a button on her watch, she answered it.

"Peter?" She said, recognizing his ID. His voice came through the speaker on her watch, and it sounded panicked.

"Hi, Nat, I uh-" he paused to catch his breath and Natasha frowned, concerned. Wanda, who had overheard his voice, stood up to listen.

"I'm really sorry because I definitely  _ did not  _ want to bother you, but I'm back at the compound now and I- well, I don't think I can walk any farther."

"What? Why?" Natasha walked towards the table, pulling up the camera display to see Peter's faint image on the West side of the building. "We're coming right now. Tell me what happened."

"I was chasing after this group of people who had taken this little boy, right, and I managed to get him away from them but they were trying to escape so I went to go get higher ground, but this guy had a, well, I don't really know what it was-" Peter gave a muffled, pained grunt as Natasha and Wanda reached the first floor and ran down the hallway. "It was this gun thing, I think, but for some reason I couldn't even see it coming and when he hit me I- I froze. Like I was paralyzed for once second but by the time I had come back it was too late, and I- er- fell."

Natasha opened the door to see Peter laying against the wall of the compound. As Wanda ran up to brush his hair gently out of his face he grimaced.

"Sorry. I- I didn't want to bother you."

"Bother us? Kid, you're hurt." She bent down to examine him, realizing almost instantly what was wrong. His leg was twisted the wrong way, blood soaking through his suit and making a red stain on the pavement. "That looks painful," she said, trying to stay calm and push down the sudden wave of panic that was threatening to spill over. She'd seen worse, but she didn't like the thought of Peter getting hurt. It was just something that made her gut twist and her legs feel unsteady.

"Okay… let's take him inside."

Wanda nodded, grabbing Peter by the shoulders and using her magic to lift him up smoothly so he didn't have to put pressure on his foot. Gently, they guided him inside to the closest room.

"Lay down, okay? I'll be right back."

"I think I could fix this, Nat, if you wanted me to," Wanda suggested, but the hesitance in her voice was an automatic red flag.

"Uh, thanks, but it might be better not to try and magic our way out of this one."

Peter laughed despite himself.

"Yeah, remember that one scene in Harry Potter where Lockhart tried to fix Harry's leg but ended up turning it into jelly?"

Wanda frowned, furrowing her eyebrows together.

"How are you so unbothered by this, Peter?"

"Oh, I'm definitely not unbothered, I just like to use jokes and witty remarks to cover up the fact that I'm in  _ a lot  _ of pain," he replied, giving her a crooked grin. He was definitely in shock.

"Alright, then. I'm sorry it hurts so much." She rubbed his shoulder comfortingly, unsure of what else to do while they waited for Natasha to come back.

"It's fine, really. I'm good." He was definitely  _ not  _ good.

"Okay. I'm here." Natasha, breathless, ran back in carrying a first aid kit and a bag filled with other things. "Here's what we're gonna do: Wanda, I need you to hold his arms down. I'm going to cut off this part of the suit and set his leg. It's gonna hurt like a bitch but once I'm done it'll feel a lot better, I promise."

"Sounds like fun," Peter sighed, pressing his head against the pillow.

"Got it," Wanda answered, moving her arms so they were over Peter's. "It'll be okay. Just breathe." She was trying to keep him calm but, on the inside, both the women beside him were a little bit of a mess.

Peter nodded, screwing his eyes shut and flinching when Nat used scissors to cut off his suit.

"Ready, Peter?" She called.

"Do I have a choice?"

"Okay, I'm gonna count to three. One… two… three!"

She jerked the bone back into its right position and Peter screamed, a painful sound she hoped she'd never have to hear again, as long as she lived. She cleaned up the wound that had been torn in his leg while he breathed heavily, his eyes still closed. Wanda peered over him, worried.

"Are you alright, Peter?"

"Yeah… I'm good, just… shit, that hurt."

"Language," Nat chided, and Wanda couldn't help but smile. As Natasha finished cleaning up his leg, she wrapped a bandage and a brace around it to keep it in place.

"Don't move, okay? I mean it." She waved her hand. "We'll worry about you changing later. With your healing powers, it won't take as long for this to get better, but it'll still be a little while."

"Thanks, guys. Sorry again. I would've called someone else if it meant I didn't have to bother you, but…"

Wanda scoffed, sitting beside him and crossing her arms.

"You think it's bothersome to get help when you have a critical injury? That's ridiculous!"

"Yeah, it definitely is. Peter, you can always come to us if you need help. You don't need to feel bad."

"Yeah, okay, I guess."

"Here, take some Advil and try and get some sleep." Nat handed Peter a glass of water, standing over him as he swallowed down the pills. Wanda stayed put beside him, rubbing his shoulder softly.

"You guys are great."

Nat smiled, ruffling his hair.

"Hey, you're pretty great, too, kid."

They sat together for a few minutes in silence, Peter laying on the bed and staring up at the ceiling as he tried to fall asleep.

"Hey, Peter, did I ever tell you about the time my brother broke his leg trying to catch a fish in the river?"

Wanda spoke up suddenly, surprising Peter and Nat alike.

"Er- no. You haven't told me much about- about your brother."

She smiled wistfully, turning so she could lean back on the bed next to him and fold her hands neatly in front of her. Nat scooted closer in her chair, curious. Through the dim light of the lamp beside them, Wanda's face was illuminated, her eyes softened and sad as she wove the story out for them.

"Pietro was always getting himself into trouble," she murmured, her voice laced with bittersweet sorrow. "I vividly remember one day when the kids in my neighborhood dared him to catch the biggest fish he could with his bare hands. He was never one to back down from a challenge, so he marched down to the river in the forest near my house and set out to catch a fish." She paused for a moment, taking a breath before continuing. "He was out there for hours. My parents and I worried he wouldn't be home before dark but seconds later, he stumbled into the house and shouted at all of us to come down and see what he got." She laughed to herself. "Well, he had managed to fall on one of the rocks and he couldn't walk for six weeks after because of how badly his leg had been broken. He might've died that day but, injury or not, he had walked home with a giant fish on his back. It must have been at least two feet long, and he just dumped it right on the floor of our kitchen! We brought him cooked fish while he was staying at the hospital, so he knew his efforts didn't go unnoticed."

Natasha, who had made herself more comfortable in her chair, chuckled lightly.

"That sounds like something you would do, Pete."

"I definitely would  _ not, _ " Peter mumbled, but there was a soft smile on his face. Both women could tell he had become sleepy. "That was a great story, Wanda. It sounds like your brother was pretty awesome."

She smiled down at him, running her fingers through his hair.

"He was amazing," she said, and Peter and Nat both smiled. They sat for a few minutes more, until Peter's breathing deepened and they could slowly make their way out of the bedroom, Nat shutting the door behind them.

"Thank God," she breathed as soon as the door was closed. "I thought we might have to ruin Steve and Tony's vacation."

Wanda waved her hand as they walked down to the kitchen.

"We had it under control," she replied, "it's a good thing you knew how to fix it."

"Yeah, and it's a good thing you knew how to comfort him." Natasha said. "I've never heard you talk about your brother before."

A small smile played on Wanda's lips.

"Peter is… easier to talk to than most of the other people here."

"I can agree with that one."

"He'll be okay, right?"

Natasha nodded as they reached the kitchen.

"Yeah, I think he'll be fine. He has us, anyways. We'll do our best for him."

Wanda looked out the window at the night sky, sighing softly.

"We will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading <3


	17. until our days are over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm staying with you."
> 
> "No, you're going back to the jet with everyone else."
> 
> "Like hell I am. We're in this together, remember?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 17: field surgery
> 
> Sorry this is late for me but here it is
> 
> written by me + M :)

_ Thump! _

_ Thwack! _

_ Slap! _

Natasha repeatedly hit the punching bag, ducking, swerving, and aiming sharp jabs and aggressive kicks. Sweat trickled down her temple, but that was the only sign of her exertion. 

_ Jab. _

_ Turn. _

_ Kick. _

She repeated the moves, relentlessly attacking the bag. Finally, after one particularly strong punch, it went flying off its chain and landing on the gym floor a few feet away. 

“Damn, what did it do to you?”

Nat turned to see Clint leaning in the doorframe. 

She smiled, delicately taking off the wraps around her knuckles. “It looked at me funny.”

He chuckles.

“What’s got you all fired up this morning?”

“Nothing, really, woke up and thought I needed a good training session. You could join me if you’d like.”

“And get myself tossed across the room?” he took a step back, his hands up in mock fear. “No, thank you.”

She laughed, punching his shoulder as she passed. “Hm. Sounds like you’re scared.”

“Hey, it’s a very healthy fear.”

Nat paused, pretending to think. 

“You’re right. I would beat the crap out of you.”

Clint shrugged. 

"We’ll have to put that to the test someday."

“Oh, you afraid to get your hands dirty?” She teased. 

“No,” he pushed her playfully. “We have a mission. And I’d rather not show up with a black eye and bruised ribs.”

Packing away her belongings, she nodded.

“I guess so. We want those bad guys to see the pretty faces of the ones taking them down.”

“Obviously.”

Nat smiled. “I have to shower. Gotta smell nice for those criminals, too.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Don’t take too long, Fury will brief us downstairs, but he’s not going to wait forever.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you then.”

***

“This is high level security, guards round the clock, electrified fence, cameras everywhere. This is a rescue mission so try to be quick, precise, and with as little casualties as possible. Got it?”

Fury looked them both in the eye. 

Nat nodded. 

“How’d they get our men in the first place?”

“I sent some troops that way for scouting, after several days of radio silence and no return, it’s been proven they’ve been taken hostage. For research, torture, death, we don’t know. This is also an info mission. Whatever you find out, report back.”

The two nodded, looking at the map and its surroundings. 

“How many troops come with us?” Clint asked. 

“You only get one squad. We’re already stretched out too thin, and they’re really only there as backup. This should be in and out, save as many lives as you can.” Fury responded. 

Natasha crossed her arms.

“What if they’re dead or have been transferred?”

“We know they haven’t gone anywhere. We’ve been monitoring their comings and goings and so far there haven’t been any new arrivals or anyone leaving the premises. As far as if they’re dead, you’ll have to find that out on your own.”

Clint and Nat exchanged glances. 

“Okay, I’m ready to go.”

“Me too.”

Fury motioned to the door.

“Then get on with it.”

***

"Hey, you think these guys are the real deal, or more like the ones from that one op we took in London a couple years ago?"

Natasha raised her eyebrows, eyeing Clint from her seat at the front of the quinjet.

"Oh, you mean the ones that left you hanging upside down for three days because you talked too much?"

"That's not how I remember it."

"Well, that's definitely how it happened." She shot him a playful smirk. "Wheels down in five."

"Got it, Agent Romanoff," Clint responded, shooting her a salute. "If someone tries to take me out, you better give 'em hell for me."

"Hm… I might let them rough on you a little bit."

"Very funny."

They landed a couple miles outside of a small town, the base visible at the peak of a hill. Nat used goggles to zoom in on the perimeter.

"I count eleven on the North side. Think we can take them?"

"Pfft. In my sleep."

"You shoot some of them down from afar, and I'll work on reprogramming the outer electrical grid." Natasha opened a small tablet, her fingers moving in a blur across the screen. "Once the system is deactivated, we'll only have thirty seconds to cross the barrier and get inside before it kicks back on."

They advanced towards the building, and Clint took out a couple of watchmen standing at the ready in towers a few yards away, his arrows flying effortlessly out of their bow and hitting their mark each time. Nat held up her watch.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

They ran, sprinting through the gate while alarms blared at the sudden loss of power to the base's perimeter as Hydra agents ran from their posts to solve the problem. Slipping in and quietly taking out the two guards in front of the steel doors, Nat and Clint entered the building. There were no agents in their immediate vicinity, but they knew there were plenty just around the corner. 

"Four to our left and three on our right, approaching fast."

"On it."

Choosing an arrow from his quiver, Clint shot it around the corner and it let out an electrical current, extending along both sides of the hallway. Within seconds, they heard seven loud thumps as the agents hit the floor.

"My blueprints had them at the end of this hallway to the right."

They ran, punching and kicking as they went until they reached a locked door.

"I've got this one," Nat murmured, using a device on her suit that emitted a heated laser and sliced right through the lock. Clint looked up at her, grinning.

"Impressive."

Kicking in through the door, Nat held up her gun and prepared for what was on the other side.

"Oh, thank god."

"Hill?"

Maria Hill stood before them, hands up and ready to fight.

"Thought you might've been something else."

"I- Fury didn't tell me it was  _ your  _ troops he sent."

"Nah, that information probably wasn't necessary." Maria shrugged. Around her sat at least a dozen other S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, luckily unharmed. "Glad you guys came, though. We've been trying to get out but they put these things on us when we were tranqed." He held up her wrist to show a small item that seemed embedded into it. "See?"

"I'll see if I can deactivate it."

There were a few long, strenuous minutes before Nat pressed a symbol on the tablet and the wrist devices fell out, a sigh of relief coming through the room.

"Thanks, Natasha. What do you say we blow this popsicle stand?"

"I'm all for it. Barton, you got us covered, right?"

"Of course. Let's get out of here."

They forced their way past the agents coming up the hall, chaos erupting as the previous hostages fought back against the soldiers in the base. Nat paused when they passed the control room.

"Clint, Hill, you guys take everyone back to the jet."

"Uh, what about you?!" Clint said, alarmed as he stabbed an arrow into another guy's arm.

"Fury said to gather information. This'll only take me a minute."

"I'm staying with you."

"No, you're going back to the jet with everyone else."

"Like hell I am. We're in this together, remember? Hill, you got everyone?"

Maria nodded.

"I'll hover over. Give me the signal when you need it."

"You're stupid, you know that?" Nat chided as she and Clint ran into the control room and locked the door behind them, pushing a desk in front of it to give themselves some added defense.

"Not as stupid as you for deciding to do this in the first place."

"Hey, this is important. If we gather intel here, we might be able to uncover the locations of the other bases." She fumbled around in her pocket before pulling out a small flash drive. "Give me a minute," she muttered, plugging it in and watching the computer screens come to life, data flashing rapidly in front of her face as the drive hacked into the system. "Thank god for Tony and his superhuman genius."

"Now might not be a time for thanking anyone. We've got company!"

Nat ducked as a shot echoed through the room, bouncing against the outside of the door. There were a few bangs and she turned around, holding her gun above her face.

"How many?" Clint asked, backing up and cocking an electric arrow.

"I've only got one heat signature."

The banging stopped, and there was silence. Nat pulled the drive out of the computer.

"Let's get out of here."

"Wait." Clint held up his hands. He adjusted his small hearing aid, tensing up. "Shit."

Nat heard it, too, and her eyes widened but at that point, it was too late. She heard Clint yell something and he reached out to grab her when a tremendous shock rang through the room, shaking everything and sending them both toppling to the floor.

"What the hell is that?!" Nat shouted.

"It came from above us!"

There was another giant vibration and they covered their heads with their hands as dust rained down from the ceiling. Clint grabbed her arm, pulling her up.

"We gotta go before it gets bigger!"

There was another shock wave, this time larger than the other two by a tenfold, and the ceiling exploded on top of them and sent them both flying backwards.

***

When Clint opened his eyes, he couldn't move. His leg was stuck under a pile of hard concrete, and his ears were ringing so loudly he reached up with a shaky hand to turn his hearing aid all the way down. Now, all he could hear were the sound of muffled voices, coming from above them. Everything was dark.

"Nat," he shouted, coughing up dust. "Nat!"

He groaned with effort as he lifted the rock off of his body, wincing in pain when he put weight on his right leg. His eyes watering, he turned his aid back up and everything became crystal clear again.

The voices had faded, and he assumed that meant the agents took them both for dead. The night sky was visible over his head, the cold seeping into his skin. He worked his way over the rubble.

"Natasha!"

He heard a groan from underneath him so he dug, lifting up the broken stone until he could see the telltale red of her hair, matted with dirt and dust.

"Jesus."

Pulling her out, he set her down on top of the rubble.

"Talk to me, Natasha."

"Ugh… I'm here." She winced, peeling her eyes open. Groaning, she reached up to touch Clint's arm. "You… still alive?"

"Yeah, I think so." He looked her up and down, doing a double take when he realized she was bleeding. "Shit." He lifted her vest to reveal her soaked shirt. Peeling that up, too, he was made aware of the piece of wood shrapnel sticking about an inch out of her side.

"Yikes. Is it that bad?" She asked, only half joking. She flinched as Clint touched it.

"I, um… well, I… can you walk?"

Lifting her by the arm, he tried to help her stand up but she shouted in pain, slumping back to the ground, her breathing speeding up.

"Just… call Hill." She looked around. "Where'd everyone go?"

"Probably as far away from here as possible. They'll be back soon, though, so we have to get out of here." He reached up to his ear. "Fuck. Comms are down."

"Ah, if only Cap could hear you now."

Clint ignored her, reaching into his pockets.

"We've gotta get you out of here, but if you can't walk with that… I'm gonna have to pull it out."

"Well, I'm sure that'll be fun," Natasha replied, sweat beading up on her forehead as she tried to control her desire to scream because of how much it hurt.

Clint looked around. She couldn't walk like this, but if he pulled it out right here, she'd bleed to death in a minute. Suddenly, he got an idea. Reaching for her arm, he pulled the laser device off her suit.

"How hot is this thing? I mean, I know it's hot enough to slice through metal, but at the right angle… it might just be enough."

"Ah, great. The old jerk-and-burn." Nat leaned back, closing her eyes.

"It's the best way for us to get out of here before they get back  _ and  _ make sure you don't die on me before them."

"Or you could just go. I can handle myself."

"Nope. You're not playing that card on me right now. You're stuck with me."

Despite their dire circumstances, a small smile played on Nat's lips.

"Well, that's not ideal, but I guess I just have to deal with it."

Clint took a deep breath.

"Okay. Try not to scream too loud, or you'll give us away."

Nat clenched her teeth, nodding.

"I'm pulling it out…" they both braced themselves. "Now!"

If the pain of Clint ripping the wood out of Nat's body was enough to make her yelp, her hands gripping the rock below her so hard her knuckles turned white, the pain of him burning the open cut closed as fast as he could was much worse. She did her best not to writhe in pain, her breathing short and laced with muffled yelps. It felt like forever to both of them when he turned off the laser.

"I'm done."

"Thank… god…" she spit out. "That… was completely shitty."

Clint gave her a moment to regain herself before he helped her stand, letting her lean against his shoulder.

"Thanks for that. I guess I'm lucky you don't just let me die all the time."

He rolled his eyes.

"Even if I did, you'd come back to haunt me."

"True. Your life would be a living nightmare."

They climbed up over the rubble just as Hill landed the cloaked quinjet on the roof, much to the confusion of the soldiers below.

"God, what happened to you two?" She said, running out to meet them and help support Nat. They must've looked like shit, the grayish dust covering them mixing with blood and sweat.

"We had a little bit of a mishap," Nat said, shrugging before sending Clint a smirk.

"A little? I'll say."

Nat sat down in a seat on the jet with a huff, surrounded by the rescued S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Clint sat down beside her, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

"Let's get out of here, yeah?" Nat asked, nodding to Hill. "I need a pizza."

Hill stared at her, signaling to one of the pilots to start their ascent.

"You sure you don't need some more help right now?"

"Nah, I'm good. Just hungry."

Hill glanced at Clint, who shrugged helplessly. 

"What can I say? Crime-fighting is an appetite-inducing job. I'll take a cheeseburger over pizza any day, though."

Nat scoffed.

"Liar. You ate the entire pizza Tony got for Peter last week before the poor guy even had a chance to open the box."

"Did not."

"You definitely did, smartass."

Clint feigned turning off his hearing aid, to which Nat let out an angry cry.

"You would  _ not _ , bird-brain!"

Hill sighed and walked away, leaving them to their bickering after deciding Nat would be fine. Clint grinned as she swatted his arm.

"That's totally unfair. You're gonna get it in training later."

"Fair enough. Pizza first, though."

Natasha nodded.

"Of course. Pizza first,  _ then  _ I kick your ass, Barton."

"Whatever you say, Romanoff."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope u have a good day/night or whatever time it is lol <333


	18. hey, this green stuff tastes weird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Now, listen, kid. If you don't want to talk about what you said a few moments ago, it's alright. I just want you to know that-"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 18 (alt prompt used): truth serum
> 
> Peter Parker's in a pickle again
> 
> written by me :)

"Kid, I'm not joking, do  _ not  _ touch that."

Peter pulled his hand away from the mechanical arm on the table, blushing.

"Er, right. Sorry. I forgot. It's just… it's all so cool and I don't even know where to start."

Tony sighed, putting down his tiny welding tool to stand up and come closer to Peter.

"I know it is, I built it." He placed his hand on Peter's shoulder, guiding him away from the table with all of the fragile components on it. The kid was graceful enough, but Tony didn't doubt he could be extremely clumsy.

"Listen. Bruce will be here in a bit, okay? Until then, just do some homework or something. I don't need you trying to play catch with parts of my suit." He sent Peter off with a wave of his hand, but it wasn't without a smile on his face to let him know he was just joking around. Peter grinned, picking up his backpack and moving to his corner of the room.

"Okay!" He spoke excitedly. "I've always wanted to meet Dr. Banner. He's a total genius. I mean, his work on gamma regeneration was completely insane, I read his book about five times-"

"Hey, no fair," Tony interjected, faking a frown. "What about me?"

"Oh, well, you're awesome, too, Mr. Stark, it's just-"

"Nah, kid, I'm just messing with you. Don't sweat it." Tony bent back over the metal piece he was welding into the shape of a finger. "Just don't overload on Bruce. Wouldn't want him to go all… you know. Big, green, and scary."

"Oh, okay. Got it."

"I'm perfectly cool, Tony. You don't know what you're talking about."

Peter instantly perked up at the sound of Bruce's voice as he entered the lab, a case balanced in his hands which he set down on the nearest table with a grunt.

"Dr. Banner! Oh my god, it's so great to meet you-" Peter cut himself off, looking down at the floor. "Uh, sorry. I mean, hello, sir."

Bruce waved his hand, scoffing.

"Please. No need to call me sir. I'm just Bruce, okay, kid?"

Peter nodded eagerly.

"Now, Tony wanted me to show you these different serums I came up with that you might be able to incorporate into your web fluid."

"Yeah, I was thinking about ways we could spice it up a little bit. Give you some extra self-defense." Tony stood up, wiping his hands with a towel and going to stand by Bruce while Peter sat in front of them, listening attentively. Bruce opened the case, showing a variety of different, tiny vials.

"So, basically, I created different formulas to do different things. For example, uh," he put on a pair of glasses and reached into the case. "This one will increase the time of your web's adhesiveness by almost twice."

"Cool," Peter breathed.

"Keep in mind these are all experimental. They should work, but they haven't yet been mixed with the compounds in your webbing, so the reaction may be slightly different than intended." He looked back into the case. "This one," he continued, holding up a dark blue vial, "will provide an acidic element when exposed to oxygen. It isn't too harmful to people, but it'll react with molecules in materials such as wood fibers or even metal to help give you a quick escape, if necessary."

Bruce continued talking and Peter soaked up every word of it, excited about trying out the formulas. When Bruce was finished, he fell quiet, and gave Tony a nod.

"So… yeah. That's pretty much it. You can experiment with these all you want, so I'll leave them here."

Tony looked over at Peter.

"Hey, kid, if I leave you for a while to go up to the conference room with the others, you won't burn the place down, right?"

"Yeah, I won't. Thanks so much, Dr. Banner!"

"Bruce."

"Right. Sorry. Bruce."

He shot Peter a friendly smile.

"Hey, anytime, kid."

They left Peter by himself to peruse through the vials of liquid, debating which one he should test out first. Bruce had really thought of everything, from gaseous sedatives to a glow-in-the-dark additive. Some of it seemed impractical considering his work and his abilities, but some of it really caught his eyes. He pulled out one, called "Ultraviolet" and got to work.

Hours later, the lab was a mess of both full and empty vials, some left open and disregarded, and webbing sticking to every piece of furniture in the room. Peter himself dangled upside-down from the ceiling, fiddling with his left webshooter until a spritz of white webbing shot out and one of its ends hit the floor. Peter touched it, satisfied when he pulled his hand back suddenly because the web was  _ steaming,  _ emitting a thick heat that faded after a moment _. _ These webs may not be much help to him while trying to take someone out, but they were definitely awesome. He was surrounded by all kinds of different combinations of formula and web fluid. His favorite so far had been one that was still glowing a bright, fluorescent purple. Lowering himself down from the ceiling, he decided he should clean up while he waited for all the sticky substance littering the room to dissolve. It was getting late, anyways, and he figured he should go home. He cleaned up his papers and moved some of the vials back into the case, trying to avoid hitting his head on a strand of web. Reaching out to grab his phone, he leaped back suddenly when he felt a shock, knocking the table behind him and hearing the clattering of glass, paper, and his stuff. Looking closer, he realized there was a shimmering web in front of him.

_ Ah, right. The invisible one. _

He continued to clean up his space, reaching down to pick up his water bottle, which had fallen when he ran into the table and had sprung open, creating a puddle of water and light green chemicals on the floor. Picking up a shattered vial, he examined it.

"Don't know what this was," he muttered to himself, "but I hope Dr. Banner isn't too mad at me for spilling it."

He hummed as he cleaned and, by the time he was done organizing all the papers and mopping up the mess he had created, most of the webs were gone, dissolved as the oxygen took over the compounds in them. Bruce and Tony walked in not a moment too soon.

"Lookin' good, Pete," Tony praised, raising his eyebrows as he looked around. "And here I was, worried we'd have to call the fire department."

"How'd you like testing out the formulas?" Bruce asked him.

"It was great! It was really fun, and I liked a lot of them." Peter nodded. "Thank you for that."

They talked for a while longer until Peter checked his watch.

"Er, I have to go, now, actually. Thank you so much for the opportunity today, Dr- uh- Bruce."

"Yeah, sure, kid. Let me know if you have any other questions."

"I will!"

Peter walked out of the building, refilling his water bottle as he went and drinking most of it, as he had forgotten to stop for any water breaks while he was working. Halfway through he gagged, a sour taste suddenly present in mouth. Spitting out the water he had, he put his bottle into his backpack, disregarding the bad taste as resulting from a dirty water fountain. On his train ride home, he texted Ned about his day.

Ned: dude, that's literally so awesome!!! Like, Tony Stark and Bruce Banner were in the same room as you!!!!

Peter: i know, it's so wild!!

Ned: you've gotta show me those web combos

Peter: duh. Let's meet tomorrow and I'll show you all of them.

Ned: sounds like a plan

"May, I'm home!" Peter dumped his stuff down on the table and walked into the kitchen, where his Aunt was peering worried into the oven.

"Hey, Pete. Sorry, I think I burned the meatloaf again."

Peter shrugged.

"It's okay. I never liked your meatloaf, anyways."

Freezing, he stuttered.

"Uh- what- what I mean is-"

"Really? I thought you loved my meatloaf." May frowned at him before looking back into the oven.

_ Why did I say that? _ Peter scratched the back of his head. He never  _ did  _ like May's meatloaf, but he swore to himself he'd never tell her that.

"Well, it looks like we're getting takeout tonight, anyways," she said glumly, pulling out the charred meatloaf. Peter wrinkled his nose up at the smell. "How about Chinese?"

"That sounds good to me."

They spent the evening sitting at the table, poking at wilted cabbage leaves and filling themselves up on chicken dumplings. May pointed a chopstick st Peter, swallowing her food.

"How was your internship thing today? Do any cool Spider-man stuff?" She questioned him.

"Yeah, it was great, actually! I got to meet Bruce Banner."

"Wow. He's the, uh, Doctor guy, right?"

"Nope. That's Doctor Strange. He's the guy who's also the Hulk."

May nodded.

"Ah, okay. Gotcha. Sorry, it's hard to keep up with all this superhero stuff."

"It's easy for me," Peter said, somewhat condescending, before shutting his mouth.

_ Why did I just say that, too? _

"Someone's a little sassy today," May noted.

"Sorry. I'm just tired, I guess." Peter was itching to say more. "Actually, I'm not tired, I just think that maybe you should educate yourself a little more." He winced. May stared at him, her gaze irritated.

"Peter, I try. You know that. I'm just busy all the time with work and things go over my head when I'm worn out." She continued eating her food. "I thought we went over this."

Peter stood up, wanting to avoid any more mishaps.

"Uh, you know what? I'm gonna go to bed." He shook his head. "Actually, I'm not gonna go to bed. I'm gonna sit on my phone in my room and worry about life." He winced again, mentally kicking himself for his strangely overcompensating statements. May stared at him, confused.

"Peter, wha-" she started, but he abruptly turned around and walked to his room, shutting the door behind him.

"What is your problem, Peter?" He muttered to himself, rubbing his eyes with his hands. "Maybe I just need to get some sleep." Yeah, sleep, that's all he needed. He had gotten done with a long, eventful day and he was so exhausted, he couldn't control what he was saying.

When he woke up the next morning, he began to realize that maybe it  _ wasn't  _ just exhaustion.

***

"Hey, Pete. Back for more, huh?"

"No, I'm not. I need to talk to you."

Peter's bluntness surprised Tony. He had stayed in bed half the day, trying his best to avoid any confrontation with May because the only words to come out of his mouth had been bitterly honest and, frankly, embarrassing.

"Uh, okay. Sure. What's up?"

Peter sighed.

_ God, I hope I don't make a fool of myself right here in front of my mentor. _

"I hope I don't make a fool of myself in front of you."

_ Shit! Why did I say that out loud?! _

"I mean, shit, why did I just say that out loud?!" Peter's eyes widened. Tony crossed his arms, furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Okay, whatever. I guess I'm just gonna say whatever it is I'm gonna say and if you think I'm stupid for it or whatever, it's fine. Well, it's not fine, actually, and I'll be really disappointed by it and feel like a failure but I mean I feel like a failure a lot so I'm kinda used to it. Okay, that was a lie, too, because I'm not used to it-"

"Peter!" Tony shook his head. "Just- just tell me what's wrong."

"Right, that. I'm probably being stupid but, um, well, I haven't been able to control what I'm saying the past day. Like, uh, for example, I don't ever want to tell you that I see you as a father figure and it would suck to lose you but here I am, telling you that. Oh, shit. Why did I just tell you that?!" Peter blushed as the words continued to roll off his tongue like a waterfall. "I mean, yeah it's true, but you don't just go around  _ saying  _ that to people, that's totally embarrassing-"

"Okay. Uh, well, we can talk about that part later." Tony looked put off by Peter's words but he remained calm. "So you just keep saying everything that's on your mind? You really have no control?"

Peter nodded.

"Yeah, exactly. I know it sounds crazy, but I'm telling the truth, well, because if I was lying I'd say I was lying because I can't control it. And… well… I don't know what happened, but it would be nice if it could stop, now."

"Yikes. Okay. Let me call up Bruce. He'll meet us down in the lab."

"Okay. Thanks. I appreciate it, Mr. Stark."

Minutes later, Peter was laying down on a bed in one of the labs at the tower, letting Bruce look him over.

"Did you have any contact with any of the formulas?"

"Well, maybe on my hands, but I washed them right after."

Bruce nodded.

"Okay. Uh, was there any time you might have been exposed to the chemicals by way of consumption or through an open wound?"

"I… don't think so." Peter shook his head. "No, wait. I did spill some on the ground. Uh, I don't know which one it was, and I cleaned it up right after, but my water bottle was right next to it."

"And you… drank out of your water bottle afterwards?"

"Um… yeah." Peter couldn't lie if he tried to right now. "Sorry. I guess I wasn't thinking on that one. I just assumed it'd be fine because it didn't touch anything."

"There's still a risk of cross contamination." Bruce eyed Tony, who was standing at the side of the room, tense and nervous. "Other than the talking, you haven't had any other symptoms?"

"No."

"Okay. I'm gonna go look in the case and see which vial is missing."

He came back a moment later and Peter sat up.

"Yeah, it's what I thought. Number twenty-two. It increases ease and will of the brain to share things without much input from the speaker themselves. It's a lot more powerful than I thought it'd be, though."

"Is he gonna be okay? How long will it last?" Tony asked.

"He'll be fine. There's no dangerous side effects, unless, of course, he were to accidentally reveal his identity to someone. Based on how strong the effects of it still are, I'd say he still has a day or two before it wears off. It might be best if he stays here." Bruce walked over to Peter. "I can give you some meds to try and flush it out faster, but it might make you drowsy."

"That's fine. Thanks."

Bruce just nodded, handing him the medication.

"I have to go run some more tests. Tony, wanna stay with him?"

"Yeah, I'm not going anywhere."

"Great. Try and get some rest, Peter. I'll check on you in a bit."

Peter nodded.

"So, kid, you've got yourself in quite a pickle, eh?" Tony sat down beside him.

"Yeah. You don't have to stay here, Mr. Stark."

"Well, would you like me to?"

"Uh, yeah. A lot." Peter blushed as he said it, looking down at his hands. Tony just laughed lightly.

"Alright, then. I guess I'm staying." He leaned back in his chair. "I guess it is a bit unfair to ask you things like that right now, huh?"

"I did this to myself, so not really."

"Well, that  _ is  _ sort of true. But we all make mistakes." Tony shrugged, looking at Peter, who was still avoiding his gaze. "Now, listen, kid. If you don't want to talk about what you said a few moments ago, it's alright. I just want you to know that-"

"Mr. Stark, just ignore that. Really." Peter shook his head. "I- it isn't something you should be concerned about. It's my problem that I'm overstepping. I shouldn't think like that, because I know it isn't fair to you." He kept talking, unable to stop now. Part of him didn't want to. "It's just… I've never really had a dad that stayed with me, you know? I mean, my parents left and then Ben… died. Well, you don't need to care about that, or me. I'm not your problem. I'm sorry I keep trying to be. I am."

Tony gave him a soft smile, leaning over his bed.

"Peter, I was going to say you're like the son I never had before you cut me off."

"Wh- what?"

Tony nodded.

"I've just been so hesitant about getting closer to you because, well, I don't want to end up treating you like my dad treated me. That's not something you should ever have to go through. But you're an amazing little dude. I'm really attached to you, spider-boy."

"My name is Spider-man, actually."

"I'm aware."

Peter bit his lip, looking down again.

"Sorry. Can't help it. But it makes me feel really good inside that you said that. Like, really good. I haven't felt this happy in a while, to be honest."

Tony raised his eyebrows.

"Not even when I bought you ten Lego sets on your birthday?"

"Not even then," Peter agreed, grinning now. "Hey, maybe this truth-serum thing isn't so bad. It tasted  _ terrible,  _ though, now that I think about it. Almost as bad as May's meatloaf, which I always told her I liked because I felt bad about it, because she tried so hard, but really, Mr. Stark, it is  _ awful- _ "

"Okay, kid. You're off on a tangent again."

"Oh. Sorry."

"It's okay. It's not like you can help it."

"Well… it's also really nice to talk to you. About all these things I never would've told you if I hadn't been basically forced to by some sort of honesty potion."

Tony shook his head, ruffling Peter's hair.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that one. And for asking, but I'm also really glad you told me that. It makes me happy, too."

Peter's smile grew even wider, stretching from ear to ear even though he was becoming drowsy with sleepiness.

"Really?" He said softly.

"Of course."

"Oh, that's great, Mr. Stark. Really great," Peter murmured as he dozed off. Tony hoped that, when he woke up, he'd be back to normal, but he'd remember what they had talked about. When his eyes had slid shut completely Tony, despite trying his best to refrain from doing so, bent down and kissed Peter's forehead, brushing his curls out of his face before standing up and letting him sleep peacefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you are having a nice day <3


	19. but if I don't save them, who will?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Peter, it appears you are bleeding."
> 
> "Yep, got that, thanks, Karen."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 19: sleep deprivation
> 
> written by me :)

"Peter? Peter. Wake up, man. You're gonna get us in trouble."

"Huh? I'm not sleeping."

He had definitely been sleeping. Peter opened his eyes as Ned's voice came through to him, realizing he had dozed off. He rubbed his eyes, remembering he was still in his chemistry class rather than his warm, pillowy bed. Worst of all, there was drool on his lab report.

"You don't look so good." Ned said, raising his eyebrow at the brown-haired boy. "Have you been sleeping enough lately?"

"Yeah, 'm fine," Peter replied through a yawn. "Had a late, er, patrol last night. Didn't get back as early as usual."

"Hm. Okay."

"Ned, I'm fine. Promise."

"If you say so, Peter. I was gonna ask if you wanted to come over and build my new Millennium Falcon set, but I figure you should go to bed at a decent hour-"

"What?! No! Ned, you are not building that without me." Peter scoffed.

Ned laughed.

"I'm just joking. Come over at six, though, okay?"

"You got it."

Hours later, Ned sat on the couch in his living room, waiting.

"Ned, sweetie," his mom called from the kitchen. "What do you and Peter want for dinner? I can order a pizza."

"Pizza sounds great, mom!" He yelled back, checking his phone. It was already 6:30, and Peter still hadn't arrived. Ned was beginning to get worried.

N: pete, answer your phone

N: unless you're stopping a bad guy right now or something

N: in that case definitely don't answer

_ He probably just had to stop a theft or something. _

But when 7:30 had come and passed, Ned knew something must be up. He dialed a new number into his phone.

"Hey, May."

"Hey, Ned. What's up?" Peter's aunt answered the phone, her voice as bubbly as ever.

"Uh… is Peter there?"

She laughed.

"Yeah, he is, actually. He's studying."

"He- what? He told me he'd come over at six."

"Really? He never told me that." May sighed. "He's been a lot more scatterbrained than usual. I'm sorry."

"It's alright."

"Maybe you should stop by tomorrow. I'm sure he'll be giving you a  _ very  _ nice apology," May said, a slight hint of annoyance at Peter in her tone.

"Okay. Thanks, May."

"Anytime, Ned."

He hung up, breathing out a long, slow sigh. How had Peter managed to forget the thing he  _ always  _ looked forward to? It wasn't like Peter to flake on Ned, especially not for something as big as his new set.

P: hey, man. May just came and told me you called. I am so, so sorry I forgot

N: don't worry about it. I just hope you're okay.

P: yeah. Finals and patrol are kicking my ass

N: peter, you need to get some sleep

P: I have patrol until 1 am, then I will, I promise

N: 1 am?! Dude, that's not okay. Does Mr. Stark even know you're out that late?

P: I gtg ned, see you tomorrow

And that was all Ned got from Peter Parker that night. A half-assed excuse and an empty promise.

***

"I'm telling you, MJ, Peter doesn't seem right."

The boy was whispering to Peter's sort-of girlfriend at lunch on Monday, watching Peter as he slid through the lunch line. MJ stared at him, too, furrowing her brows.

"Maybe it's just a Spiderman thing. You know how he gets with that stuff."

"Yeah, but… he doesn't look like this."

As if on cue, Peter turned around, revealing his disheveled hair, which was usually brushed to neatness, his pale face, and the dark rims around his eyes. As he came to sit by Ned and MJ, he scrunched his eyebrows together, tilting his head.

"Why are you guys looking at me like that?"

"Uh-"

"Because you look like a fricken' ghost, Parker," MJ cut in. "What the hell is going on with you?"

Peter rolled his eyes, plopping his tray onto the table and sitting down.

"Guys, I'm fine. I just haven't been able to get much sleep because it's finals week."

"Peter, we have finals week every year, and you  _ never  _ look like this." MJ bit her lip. "You look sick."

"I'm  _ fine. _ If you guys aren't gonna stop bothering me about it, then I'm going to eat in the library."

"Peter, we care about you. That's why we're nagging you. Is it Spiderman stuff? Is that why you haven't been sleeping?"

"You know what? Bye."

Without another word, Peter stood up and left, leaving a dumbfounded Ned and a shocked MJ to stare at each other in disbelief. 

"Uh, what the  _ hell  _ was that?" MJ asked. "That was so…"

"Strange," Ned finished, and she nodded. "I agree. Maybe we should just give him space."

"Or, we could figure out what's wrong."

"MJ, I don't know if we should keep confronting him-"

"Confront him? No way. We're gonna get to the bottom of this ourselves. There's a lot of things Peter can do, Ned, but knowing when to stop and take care of himself is one he never really mastered."

"So what do we do, then?"

"Well, you need to make a call."

***

"Hey, Mr. Stark. This is urgent. It's about, uh, Peter. Can you call me back? Or if not, at least, like, talk to him? He's not doing so great."

Tony rubbed his forehead, scrolling through the seven or eight messages Ned Leeds had left him that afternoon.

"Tony, want me to pick up the kid from school today?" Happy came into the room, noticing the concerned expression on the man's face.

"No… but can you do a favor for me and grab two others? Just tell them I want to talk to them about Pete. Ned Leeds and Michelle Jones."

"Uh- yeah, sure."

"Thanks, Hap. You're the best forehead of security I've ever had, y'know?"

"Ha, ha," Happy replied, his laugh dry and sarcastic. "I'll be back in an hour."

When Happy had returned, the two kids were trailing behind him, their faces awestruck at Tony's lab space.

"Mr. Stark! So cool to finally meet you. Mr. Happy said you wanted to see us and at first I was like 'no way am I getting into a car with some random guy in sunglasses' but then he said he worked for Peter and I was like 'oh okay, maybe he's legit'-" Ned's rant was cut off by an annoyed Happy.

"I work  _ with  _ Peter, not for Peter."

Tony shook his head.

"Okay, whatever. What did you two need to talk to me about? Something's up with Peter?"

"Yeah," MJ said. "He hasn't been sleeping. And he got mad at us the other day for being worried about him. Peter doesn't get mad, like,  _ ever. _ "

Ned nodded in agreement, and Tony frowned, spinning his wedding ring around his finger as he thought.

"I'll look into it. The kid's coming over tonight to work on a project, anyways."

"Mr. Stark, we're really worried. I know it might not seem like a big deal, but Peter doesn't really know how to ask for help when he needs it. I lean, what if he gets himself hurt?" Ned spoke with concern.

"Is it something to do with his Spider-thing?" MJ asked, waving her hand in the air. "Maybe he shouldn't be going out every night."

"Yeah, especially not 'till one in the morning."

"Hold on." Tony put his hand up. "You mean to tell me Peter goes on patrol until  _ one  _ every night?"

Ned and MJ exchanged a furtive glance, and Tony knew they felt like they had said too much.

"That's not healthy. Pete needs sleep. His metabolism won't be able to keep up if he's exhausted all the time."

"And that means…?" Ned questioned the man.

"Peter will get really sick without rest. He'll be more messed up than the average person because of his enhancements. His powers might even stop working. Did he tell you why he wasn't sleeping?"

MJ frowned.

"He made up some dumb excuse about finals week and told Ned he had to patrol that late, but, other than that, he won't budge."

Tony sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"Okay. I'm going to have a chat with him when he gets here tonight. I'll handle this, okay? Peter will be fine."

"Thanks, Mr. Stark!" Ned smiled. "I knew we could count on you!"

As Happy led them out of the building, Tony reached for his phone.

Stark: hey, underoos. got a sec?

P: what's up, Mr. Stark?

Stark: stop by the lab a little earlier today. There's something we need to discuss.

Peter didn't answer for a moment, and Tony worried he had scared the kid into not coming at all.

P: yeah, sure

Stark: thanks, kid

Whether he would ever admit it or not, Tony worried for the kid. He was brave, but sometimes it made him reckless. Tony didn't want him getting into any dangerous situations, especially because his lack of sleep would send his reflexes and senses into complete disarray.

***

Meanwhile, Peter was struggling to determine exactly where that  _ awful  _ noise was coming from. He tried to hone on it but it was nearly impossible to from this distance. Not to mention the fact that he felt like he might pass out at any minute. He crouched, perched up on top of the roof, making attempts to figure out who or what was making that screeching, metallic sound.

"Karen, activate enhanced reconnaissance mode," Peter said into his mask. In a second, his display had gone from colorful to blue and yellow, the heat signatures of the people below glowing up at him.

"Zoom in on that building." Peter pointed to the one across the road. It looked dingy and abandoned, but he had a suspicion. Sure enough, there were four heat signatures inside, next to a giant machine he couldn't make out, its power source glowing red. Suddenly, his ears were pierced with the god-awful sound and he recoiled.

"Ahh! Karen, turn it off!"

"Deactivating advanced reconnaissance mode," his suit's AI spoke evenly. Once Peter had recovered he stood up, shaking out his tired, wobbly limbs.

"Okay. I'm gonna handle this, then I'm gonna go meet with Mr. Stark," he spoke to himself.

"Peter, I wouldn't recommend engaging the targets. Scans show your brain function is not compatible with the current mission."

"Thank, Karen, but I got this."

Had he missed a few nights of sleep? Maybe, but it was for the better. These days, Peter just couldn't seem to  _ stop. _ He couldn't stop hunting the streets late at night, taking down the odd mugger or pedophile. He couldn't stop himself, not even when his breathing became ragged and weary and his hands screamed for a break from scaling up rough brick walls and gripping webbing. Maybe it was because he just really liked his job.

Or maybe it was because of the little girl he couldn't save last week. The one who had been crying out for help as a group of three cornered her. The one who almost looked like Morgan, the little Stark who had grown dutifully attached to Peter since they had first met. The one that Peter had run in front of, but had been a split second too late.

If there was one thing in this world Peter thought he could do, it was help people.

And as he swung across the road to land on the outside of the old building, he pushed all unrelated thoughts of his head and went through the broken window, creeping along the cold, damp floor.

"... should be ready in an hour or two. Let the boss know we're on our way."

"An hour? He's gonna be real pissed if you hear him say that. He wants it done  _ now. _ "

"Yeah, well, I'm doing my best here, Dawson. You got a better idea?"

The other guy groaned.

"No. I'll call the boss."

From the darkness, Peter could see the man take out his phone.

"Hey, guys! Party's over!"

The man gave a cry of anger when Peter shot a web at the phone and ripped it free of his grasp.

"It's that Spider-guy!" Someone in the back of the room yelled.

"Uh, Spider _ man _ , actually. You were close, though."

Peter swung around the room, webbing up the first two men. It was going great until he let out a strangled cry and slipped off the wall he was clinging to, falling to the floor with a thud. One of the men in the back snickered.

"Sorry about that," Peter said, dusting himself off. He was thankful the mask hid the way his cheeks were burning with embarrassment. What the hell had happened?

"This kid doesn't even know what he's doing."

The other two men came forward. They were both thick and burly, and had their guns out, both trained on Peter. He lifted his hands.

"Hey, c'mon guys, you wouldn't shoot a friendly guy like me, would you?" When they didn't move, he webbed the gun out of the first guy's hand, but missed the second.

"Shit. What the hell is wrong with me?" He said, having to improvise and punch the guy backwards. 

"What is this, anyways?" Peter gestured to the metal machine, which was glowing with a purplish light. "How did a couple thugs like you end up with Chitauri tech like this?"

The man Peter had webbed to the wall grinned maliciously.

"You can get anything if you got the money for it, kid," he said.

"Uh-huh. And who do you work for?"

Suddenly, Peter felt a sharp jab to his legs, knocking him to the floor. He was beginning to feel nervous now. His Spider-Sense hadn't even warned him about the oncoming attack, and now he lay face-first on the ground, someone's thick hand pressing into his skull.

"Play nice," he teased, hiding his anxiousness by reaching up and grabbing the man on top of him, slamming his head into the floor hard enough to knock him out. When he stood up, his head was spinning.

"Okay, not gonna tell me who you work for? I'll just leave you all here and you can deal with the cops. Trust me, I'm  _ much  _ nicer than the cops."

He had three men restrained now and was looking around for the other one, who had disappeared.

_ Come on, Peter. You should be able to find him. _

He walked around the room, scanning for footprints with his mask, but he was led in circles.

"Must've gotten away," he muttered to himself.

"Peter, there are still four heat signatures in this room." Karen's monotone voice came through.

"Wha-"

Without warning, Peter was knocked to the floor again and this time, he didn't have time to get up before there was a gunshot.

_ Should've taken their guns. Nice one, Parker,  _ was the only thing he could think, even as he felt the red-hot stab of pain pierce his abdomen. Standing up, he knocked the man to the floor, breathing heavily as he webbed him down.

"Karen, dial 911."

"Calling."

"Hi, I wanted to report a disturbance on Burton Avenue? There's- well, I handled it, but…"

Peter's vision was going woozy.

"Just… you should really come check it out. This is Spiderman. Have a nice day!"

"Peter, it appears you are bleeding."

"Yep, got that, thanks, Karen."

He swung himself out of the building, tripping on his feet and landing on the roof of the one across the street. Only then did he look down and see the red stain spreading at a steady rate through the bright red-and-blue suit.

"God. I should've been able to dodge that. Why wasn't I… able… to… dodge that?"

Peter grimaced as he sprayed webbing over his wound to staunch the bleeding, before laying on the roof, heaving.

"Would you like me to call Tony Stark?"

"Yeah- yeah, Karen, put him on the phone."

Tony didn't answer after the first few rings, and Peter worried he would have to drag his bloody self all the way to Stark Industries. Finally, the man picked up.

"Pete? What's up?" He said, and his voice only held a slight hint of concern. Peter tried to keep his eyes open, but his fatigue accompanied by his loss of blood was making him feel so sleepy…

"Peter. Say something."

"Ms'r S'rk… need you… to come get me."

"Kid, what the hell happened?"

"Guy… had a gun…"

That was the last thing Peter managed to say before blacking out.

***

When he woke up, thankfully, he wasn't lying on a rooftop somewhere in Queens. Instead, he was in a soft, white bed, the sound of a steadily beeping machine beside him and the smell of rubbing alcohol prominent in the air.

"Thank god, kid. Was almost worried you wouldn't wake up."

Peter turned his head, blinking to get the blurriness out of his eyes, to see Tony standing by his side.

"Ms'r S'rk-" he started, but Tony held his hand up.

"Don't 'Mister Stark' me, kid. You almost got yourself killed." Peter could tell Tony was annoyed, but the slight smile wavering on his lips told him Tony was glad he was here, too.

"Sorry."

Tony sat down in an armchair by the bed.

"How… long was I out?" Peter asked, starting to regain control over his words as he woke up.

"'Bout three days."

"Huh?!"

"Your body needed the rest." Tony leaned back, raising his eyebrow. "Which, might I add, is probably the reason you got shot in the first place."

Peter groaned, pressing his head against his pillow.

"I know. Was… stupid."

"You could never be stupid, Pete. Reckless, more like it. Trying to solve your own problems by drowning yourself in something. Trust me, I know." Tony sighed. "For me, it was alcohol. For you… throwing yourself into dangerous situations, I guess."

"Wasn't… throwing myself."

Tony raised his eyebrow.

"I wouldn't be too sure of that one, kid."

Peter lifted his hands, rubbing his eyes.

"May?"

"She's in the kitchen. Finally got the poor women to eat something. I told FRIDAY to call her down here."

"Thanks, Mr. Stark… you're the best."

Tony smiled.

"Ah, don't worry, I know."

Just after Peter had gained enough energy to sit up, May came bursting into the room, her hair a mess and her face tear-stained. She ran to smother a surprised Peter in a hug.

"Peter  _ Benjamin _ Parker, don't you  _ dare  _ pull some shit like that again, understand?"

Peter laughed as he wrapped his arms around May's shoulders.

"Got it. Sorry, May."

May cupped his face in her hand, kissing his forehead.

"You're lucky I can't be mad at you. I'm too relieved you're okay."

Peter hugged his aunt again, relishing the comfort and ignoring the soreness in his chest from the bullet wound.

"I love you, May."

She smiled, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

"I love you more."

***

After only a few days, Peter's enhanced healing had fully taken effect and he was able to go back to his usual routine, despite May's protests to give him another week of bed rest. His first day back at school mainly consisted of assuring Ned and MJ that he was  _ fine,  _ they  _ needed  _ to stop worrying about him,  _ yes Ned, I'm still Spiderman,  _ and  _ yes MJ, I am aware that spiders are not bulletproof. _ Once he left his last period, he pulled out his phone to see a text from Tony.

Stark: hey kid. Swing by the tower before you go home.

P: on my way.

"Hey, Pete." Tony greeted him almost as soon as he walked in, putting down what he was working on as Peter slung his backpack off his shoulder and set in on the ground. "First day back go okay?"

Peter pretended to grimace.

"You sound like a dad."

Tony smiled.

"C'mere, I wanted to talk to you about something."

Peter sat beside his mentor.

"Yeah, what's up?"

"I want to know more about what happened. I know you didn't just get shot by accident, and I know it has something to do with the way you haven't been sleeping."

Suddenly, Peter didn't feel so happy. He fiddled with a wrench on the table.

"Er, I guess I've just been pretty stressed out with finals, and patrol, and… yeah, that stuff."

Tony raised his eyebrows, unconvinced.

"Okay, kid, that was all bullshit. I'm your point guy, you can tell me anything."

Peter considered it for a moment.

"It's just… I'm supposed to save people, right? It's what Avengers do. It's what you do all the time. I can't- I'm supposed to be able to save them." He took a deep breath, already feeling the nausea in his stomach, the guilt eating away at him slowly. "I- I couldn't save someone. She was just a little girl, Mr. Stark. I  _ had  _ to save her. I couldn't let her die. I couldn't. But I did. And so I thought, why should I let anyone else down? Why should I be able to sleep at night, when I have these powers and there are people out there who need me to save them? Because- because who else will?"

Tony looked at Peter, contemplating what he had said. For a moment, the lab was silent except for Peter's small sniffles and the whirring of various robotic devices. Peter was trying desperately not to cry, but he couldn't keep a few tears from spilling, running a slow stream down his cheek.

"Kid, come here."

Peter tensed up as Tony wrapped him into an unsuspecting hug, but relaxed almost immediately, resting his head on the man's chest and letting his tears flow thick and steady. Tony stayed quiet for a few moments, allowing Peter to let it all out.

"You can't save everyone," he said. "Unfortunately, that's just not how the world works."

"But I could've saved  _ her. _ " Peter whispered, shutting his eyes. Tony rubbed small circles into his back.

"If you gave it your best shot, if you didn't hesitate, if you didn't jump in the second you sensed danger then no, Pete. You couldn't've." Tony pulled Peter back, his hands on his shoulders. "Look at me, kid. Just because you can save someone doesn't mean you're responsible for saving  _ everyone. _ Hell, there have been plenty of people in my time as Ironman I wasn't able to save. That doesn't mean I couldn't help many more. Sometimes, that's just how it is. It's shitty, trust me, I know, but we aren't gods."

"Thor is," Peter mumbled miserably, and Tony laughed lightly, ruffling the kid's hair.

"Maybe, but it doesn't mean he's done everything right. We can't save everyone, Peter. I wish we could. We all try to, every day, but there are too many people in this world for us to be able to protect all of them. So we focus on the ones we  _ can  _ help."

Peter sniffed, rubbing his nose.

"But it  _ hurts _ , Mr. Stark. It hurts so much knowing I was the only hope she had, and I- I failed her. And now I can't stop because if I do, how many more will die that I could've saved? How many more will I fail?"

Tony rubbed Peter's shoulders gently.

"Pete, I know it hurts. That part of the job will never get easier. But it doesn't mean you failed. You can't change what's already happened, or what's going to happen in the future. A melodramatic wizard taught me that," Tony said, causing Peter to crack a small smile. Tony lifted Peter's face with his hand.

"You're a brave kid for going out there every day and saving people, you know. You're braver than any kid I've ever known. And that says a lot, because I've met quite a few. But you can't compromise yourself because you want to change someone's fate. You have to understand that doing that only hurts you more. Got it?"

Peter sat still for a minute, letting the thought settle, before nodding, taking a shaky breath.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do."

Tony pulled Peter in again, wrapping his arms around his back.

"You'll always be a brave kid, Peter," he said, wiping away Peter's tears with one of his hands. "And you'll always be good. I'm sorry it has to hurt you."

"It's not your fault, Mr. Stark," Peter murmured, letting himself relax in Tony's arms.

"I've got you kid, okay? You ever need me, just call. But… remember to sleep. Please."

"Promise," Peter replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	20. it's your turn (to be the hero)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Would you help Spider-man, even if you thought he didn't deserve it?" Peter choked. "Even if… he really didn't?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 20: hiding injury
> 
> In which Peter has self-doubt yet again  
> When will I stop putting him through it? Never
> 
> written by me :)

"Hey, Pete. You feeling okay?"

Peter, who had been leaning over, waiting to throw up because his stomach felt so nauseous, lifted his head.

"Yeah, Harry. I'm good, I swear. I'm just a little tired after last night."

Harry frowned.

"You sure the whole internship isn't getting to be too much for you? You're allowed to take a break, you know."

"Yeah, got it. I'm okay, though. Seriously."

Harry eyed him nervously, obviously unsure of whether or not to believe Peter. When the train stopped and they walked up to his apartment, Harry turned to face him.

"So, we're meeting with Gwen and Ned tomorrow. Four P.M. Don't be late, alright?"

Peter nodded. Honestly, he was just desperate to get inside.

"Yeah. I'll be there."

Satisfied, Harry turned and walked to where his dad was waiting to pick him, leaving Peter to stumble up the stairs to his apartment and slam the door behind him, collapsing promptly. Lucky for him, May was taking a late shift and wouldn't be home for a few hours. Dragging himself to the bathroom, he released his hand from his chest and lifted up his shirt.

Six messy, haphazardly sewn stitches in his side were doing little to prevent the thick mess of blood soaking into his shirt. Silently, he thanked himself for wearing black. He had tried to fix himself up after getting a knife to his torso on patrol earlier today, but he hadn't bothered to slow down since then. Now, he was paying for it. The bruises littering his arms as he pulled off his shirt were another indicator that he may have been taking too many hefty blows.

_ I just heal up after a day or two anyways,  _ he told himself.  _ It doesn't matter. _

But there might have been something more… drastic beneath Peter's careless intentions. He didn't know. Maybe he felt like every hit he took, he deserved, or that every burn wound or nick with a blade felt like something he needed. He needed it, for all the times he lied to Harry before he told him he was Spiderman. He deserved it, for being irresponsible and letting his grades slip after he told May he would try harder to keep them up. All the little problems he had created, he figured would be eased from his mind if he just kept going. If he just kept letting things happen to him. The truth is, they weren't going away. But Peter couldn't stop feeling gratified whenever he got hurt. He couldn't stop feeling like he was doing everyone in his life a favor.

As he cut out the stitches and redid them more tightly and neatly, he winced in pain at each little prick of the needle poking into his skin, but was unwilling to use the numbing serum created for him by Tony Stark. And as he wiped the blood off his floor and took out the trash so May wouldn't have to see the red-stained remnants of his injuries, he ignored the way his arms and legs were so tired and so weak that they felt like lead.

_ It doesn't matter,  _ he thought.  _ This is just the way it has to be. _

He had a city to protect. That was his job. And it didn't matter what he compromised to do it.

***

"Peter. Are you even listening to me?"

"Huh? Oh… yeah, I am."

"Okay. Then answer the question."

Harry raised his eyebrows at Peter, who had dozed off and almost face planted into his coffee.

"I- uh- can you repeat the question?"

Harry groaned, saying it over again but Peter had zoned back out, staring at the TV and ignoring everyone else at the table. He was on the news this afternoon for the stunt he pulled as Spider-man last night, stopping a diamond theft. Of course, Harry didn't know that. No one did.

"Peter, I swear-" Ned snapped his fingers, and Peter looked at him, irritable.

"Yeah, I know. I should be listening or whatever."

"You're always so hooked on the stupid Spider-guy," Harry muttered, turning around to see what Peter was staring at.

"He isn't stupid."

"He just does everything as a publicity stunt, Peter. I don't get why everyone endorses him so much." Harry shrugged in a nonchalant way that made Peter feel uncomfortable.

"No, he doesn't. When has he ever gotten paid or recognized for the lives he's saved?"

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Jeez, why are you so defensive about the guy? It's just my opinion."

Gwen sighed, sticking her spoon in her hot chocolate and stirring it around.

"Guys, can we not argue about this again? We have a test coming up and I was really looking forward to being prepared for it."

Peter removed his gaze from Harry, who looked annoyed, and did his best to focus on the study questions instead of the pain in his gut, both from his wound and from the blow to his self-esteem, courtesy of his best friend, who he couldn't blame. Harry didn't know it was him under the mask. He didn't know that Peter tried so hard to help people because he felt like it was his responsibility to do so.

"Peter, I swear you've been acting  _ so  _ strange lately." Harry tried to get him to open up as they left the café.

"I'm just tired, Harry."

"Yeah, but I think it's more than that. Is this all because I don't like Spider-man? Because, come on, Peter. You don't like some of my friends but I'm chill with that because it's your opinion." Harry looked over at him.

"This isn't about that, Harry!" Peter replied, more aggressively than he had meant to. He tensed, sensing something around the corner and knowing it was his cue. "I've gotta go."

"You're ditching me again? That's the third time this week! You can talk to me!"

"I know that! I just really have to go, Harry. I'll see you tomorrow."

Harry snorted, angry and frustrated.

"Just go, Peter."

"I'm sorry, Harry," Peter said quietly, but the other boy had already stormed off. Turning around, he did his best to shake the thought of his friend out of his mind. He slipped into an alleyway and changed into his suit, pulling on his mask.

"Hello, Peter. I didn't expect to see you in action today," the female voice of his AI spoke in a calm, even tone.

"Yeah, well, duty calls, Karen."

"I'd recommend not engaging with any targets. Your vitals are currently not stable."

"I'll be fine."

"Would you like me to alert Mr. Stark of your condition?"

"No! Just… don't say anything to him. I'll be  _ fine _ ." Fine was a word Peter was getting very good at saying. 

"My scan indicates three heat signatures in the room to your left."

Peter pushed against the rusted steel door and it came open easily, but he winced at the pain in his side as he pushed it open. 

"Let's get this over with," he muttered.

The room was dark, and, as his feet padded quietly against the ground his eyes darted around, scanning for threats. When the hairs on his neck stood up he threw his hand back immediately, twisting around to rio the gun from the woman's hand, her face twisting into an expression of shock.

"You're gonna have to try harder than that, lady," he teased, leaping gracefully out of her grasp and landing a few feet away, ignoring the pain that shot up at him when his feet made an impact with the ground. The other two, both men, revealed themselves, creeping out of the darkness.

"You've fallen right into our trap, Spider-man," the woman sneered, her face menacing and cold as she advanced towards Peter. Looking around, he realized he wasn't in an ideal location for a fight. The room was quite small, with no windows and the only possible exit being the door in front of them, which was being blacked by the two men.

"Some trap this is," he continued to quip, webbing the woman's hands together and pulling her forward to she landed on the ground with a thud. One of the men sprang on top of Peter while he was distracted, hitting him something that hurt so bad he screamed, throwing the guy off of him. Gasping, he placed his hand on his neck but pulled it back with a yelp when his skin burned at the touch. The man was still holding the weapon, an electric, red-hot poker. Peter grimaced, doing his best to disregard the fact that there was now a hole about half an inch in diameter on his suit, and that the burn of the wound was making his eyes water. The woman had seized her chance to stand back up, throwing both hands at Peter and hitting him across the head. He pushed back, doing his best to pin her up against the wall and hold off the other two bad guys. When he felt another burst of pain he cried out, throwing himself backwards. Now there was another hold, this one on the small of his back. The woman laughed.

"Not doing so well today, are we?"

Peter webbed her to the wall before turning around to deal with the other two, his body tired and hurting but his brain still screaming at him to keep going. Instead of webbing another guy to the floor he runs a trailer at him, knocking him so hard into the wall he laid still.

_ God, I hope I didn't kill him. _

Peter was breathing heavily, his hand on his knees, and he didn't notice when Karen alerted him of the other man's approach. He could feel the heat before he felt the burn, searing into the back of his leg. Yelling in anguish, he reached around and webbed the guy's face, causing him to stumble back with an angry cry. 

"Peter, you should be using your usual battle strategy," Karen warned him, her voice is monotone as ever. "Your current tactics are not working effectively."

"Yeah? See if I give a shit."

He slammed the guy into the floor, punching his chest so hard he heard the crack of breaking ribs. In his frustration, he had entirely forgotten about the weapon, but was painfully reminded of it when the man jabbed it into the middle of his chest so hard it broke through his skin, charring a hole in his suit  _ and  _ his torso. Peter shut his eyes and tried to maneuver to get away, but the man had the advantage now, pushing Peter to the ground and continuing to burn him. Grinning menacingly, he pulled a knife out of his pocket and stabbed it into Peter's shoulder, earning himself a strangled scream. He pulled out the poker and Peter tried to catch his breath, screaming again as the man twisted the knife around in his shoulder and he felt himself getting dizzy from the sheer pain caused by it.

"Peter, he's vulnerable! Attack his stomach."

Peter kicked the man's stomach, sending him flying off him. He used his webs to pin him to the floor, stumbling and almost missing as he did so. 

"I've alerted the authorities. Get out of here, Peter," Karen was telling him, and Peter ran, stumbling out of the doorway and into the harsh daylight. He webbed himself upwards to the nearest rooftop, tripping and falling as he landed. He rolled over, trying to pull himself up into a sitting location.

"Ah- god- fuck-"

"Peter, would you like me to call Me. Stark?"

"No! Don't-"

"I believe it would be best if I did. Your physical injuries are a matter of great concern."

"Goddammit, Karen, do  _ not  _ call him!"

Peter leaned against a heating unit, breathing heavily. He placed his hand on the knife still embedded in his shoulder.

"Ow… shit." He leaned forward, gripping the hilt of the knife and closing his eyes, baring his teeth and taking a deep breath.

"Ah!  _ Fuck! _ " He shouted as he yanked the knife out of his shoulder and threw it to the ground where it lay spattered with blood, quickly sealing the wound with webbing. A wave of nausea washing over him, he pulled off his mask, leaned over more, and threw up, the potent smell of blood and bile only adding to the pounding of his head. Placing his hand on his side, he realized his other wound had come open, to, and was leaking blood into his suit, staining it scarlet.

"Karen, shouldn't that have healed by now?" He mumbled breathlessly.

"With your body's physical state, it appears your enhanced healing abilities are not able to function properly."

Peter leaned his head against the heating unit, listening to it vibrate at a slow, constant rate, blocking out the sound of the city below him as he tried to regain what little strength he had left. The sun was beginning to set now, the taller buildings in the distance outlined as silhouettes. Blood was trickling slowly down his chin, but whether it was from his forehead, his mouth, or his nose, he didn't know and he didn't really care. The burn marks on his body pulsed constantly, reminding him of how much he had screwed up.

"Peter. Are you still awake?"

Karen was just a voice in his ear now.

"Yeah."

"Peter, my scans have indicated that calling someone for medical assistance is necessary. You should not diverge from this."

"Yeah… I- I know."

"Why don't you want me to call anyone?"

Peter shrugged with his good shoulder, staring out at the city.

"Just don't want anyone to worry about me."

"Are you sure it isn't because you feel that you deserve all the injurious situations you have put yourself through?"

"What? No! Karen- ugh. Power down."

His AI went to sleep, leaving Peter silent on the roof. As the rays of the setting sun sank below the horizon, he heard his phone ring. Pulling it out of the pocket of his suit, he answered it with a bloodstained hand.

"Harry?" He asked, suppressing his urge to cough up more nasty bile as another way of nausea swept over him.

"Hey, Peter. Look, I just wanted to apologize for how I acted earlier. I got frustrated and I let it out on you."

Peter bit his lip, pressing his head against the metal behind him, his hand shaking as he held the phone to his ear.

"Nah, it's alright, Harry. It was my fault, too. I shouldn't have gotten mad at you for not feeling the same way as me."

"Yeah, well, can we just move on from that? I don't like being mad at you."

"Yeah. It's all good."

"Okay. Are you doing okay? You sound really tired."

"I'm good. Just… got done with some school work."

"Oh. Don't overload yourself, Pete."

"I know. What are you up to?"

"I was heading over to your place, actually. Just thought I'd call first and make sure we were cool. I wanted to see if maybe you wanted to watch a movie."

"Uh- what?!" Peter's head jerked forward, and he instantly let out a gasp as his head and shoulder screamed out in pain at the movement.

"Yeah! You know, like we used to do a lot when we were kids. Remember that one time we built a blanket fort when May wasn't there, and she came back to the whole house a disaster?"

"Yeah- uh- I- I don't think that's a good idea, Harry."

"Too late. I'm walking up to your building. You better answer the door," he chided lightheartedly before hanging up. Peter covered his hand with his mouth, trying to think. He had to make sure he was there to meet Harry. His apartment was only a few streets down, luckily, so he pulled his mask back on and shot a web to the farthest point he could, pushing back the tears brimming in his eyes as his shoulder ached. He swung himself over as fast as he could, stumbling onto the fire escape and climbing in through his window, quickly pulling his mask off and pulling on a black sweater and pajama pants, sprinting into the bathroom to wipe the blood off of his face. Looking into the mirror, he realized he had a split lip, a slice on his cheek, and the burn mark on his neck was bright red and raw.

" _ Shit.  _ Shit, shit, shit," he muttered, splashing cold water on his face. The mark on his lip was barely noticeable, but the gash on his cheek was bright pink and still oozing blood.

Just then, he heard the telltale ringing of his doorbell and scrambled for a new idea. Slapping a big bandaid over his cheek, he realized he'd just have to make something up. He pulled up his hood, to, so the mark on his neck was concealed in shadow.

_ Fuck, this is never gonna work. _

"Peter?" He heard Harry called. "You good?"

"Yeah, I… just a second!"

_ Concealer. May's closet. _

He ran into his aunt's room, tripping and stumbling and he turned the corner and the pain in his side increased tenfold. He looked down and realized he had forgotten he was still bleeding. Haphazardly ripping a hole in his suit, he sprayed webbing on his side before tearing through May's room to find her makeup bag. Taking the pale, skin-colored concealer, he rubbed what must've been about half the bottle onto his neck, biting down hard on his lip as the raw mark burned to the touch. When he was done, that part of his neck was much darker than the rest of his skin, and he knew Harry might question that, but the redness had disappeared. He rinsed his hands and walked as smoothly as he could to the door.

"Hey, Harry," he said, opening it. "Listen, I know you wanted to watch a movie but I'm kinda busy right now-"

"I texted your aunt, and she told me to come and hang out with you to get you away from studying until your eyes fall out." Harry grinned, holding up a bag. "And I brought brownies!" He looked over, his smile fading when he saw Peter. "Hey, what happened to your face?"

"Nothing. I just…" Peter realized he hadn't come up with a story yet. "I cut it shaving."

"When do you ever need to shave?"

"Baby hairs, Harry. Baby hairs."

Harry scrunched up his nose.

"Okay. Sure, Pete. Don't tell me."

"I'm not… okay, look. Really, Harry. I need to study."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Peter, you've studied for, like, eight hours so far today. I think you'll be fine on the test tomorrow." Harry walked in, eyeing Peter up and down. "You look like you need a break."

"I'm fine."

Harry walked to the kitchen, setting down his bag and turning around long enough for Peter to rub anxiously at the wound in his side, which was beginning to drip through his rushed web coating, leaving his fingers red.

"So, what movie are we watching? Please, not a Star Wars again. Literally anything else."

"Um… I dunno. You pick."

"Peter, why are you standing like that?"

He hadn't even realized his hand was still clutching his side.

"I'm- I'm fine. Hey, you pick a movie. I gotta go to the bathroom."

He rushed into the bathroom before Harry could object, closing the door behind him and turning the fan on so Harry wouldn't hear him. Leaning over the toilet, he puked again, blood coming out more than anything.

"Power on, Karen," he gasped, his head still leaning over the toilet.

"Hello, Peter."

"What's my vital status?"

"Accelerated heart rate. Extreme loss of blood. Multiple fractures in your shoulder. Multiple fractures in your ribs." Karen began to list them off.

"Okay, okay, but I'll be good for a couple hours, right? I'm good."

"You are not good, Peter. You need immediate medical attention before the consequences are irreversible." Karen paused for a moment. "I estimate about thirty minutes before you pass out because of the loss of blood."

"Pete? You okay in there?" Harry knocked on the door.

"All good!"

"Peter, you need to stop ignoring this."

Peter slid down against the wall, burying his face in his hands. He was going to die if he didn't dosomething. He could patch himself, but he'd never be able to do it as properly as he should. It would be so easy for him to let himself go right here. It would be so easy for him to lay down on the floor of this bathroom and let himself die.

_ That's too easy, Peter. You never liked easy. _

"Peter. Let me in." Harry was shaking the doorknob now. "Peter!"

He continued to fumble with the doorknob until the lock unclicked and he was able to open it.

"Peter?! Why are you on the floor?!"

He bent down next to other boy, who still had his face covered by his hands.

"Peter, you have to tell me what's going on!"

Looking up, Peter wiped the fresh tears from his eyes.

"Harry, I need you to tell me something."

"Yeah… what?"

"Would you help me with anything?"

"Of course. You're my best friend. Just tell me what you need."

"Would you help Spider-man, even if you thought he didn't deserve it?" Peter choked. "Even if… he really didn't?"

Harry shook his head, sitting down next to Peter.

"I have no idea why you're asking me this right now. Peter, of course I'd help Spider-man. I may not like him, but he's still a person. People deserve help when they need it. No matter what mistakes they've made." Harry put it simply, in a matter-of-fact way that told Peter it might just be okay.

"Harry… I'm Spider-man. And I need help."

"Huh?!" Harry frowned. "How are you… Spider-man?"

Peter lifted off his hoodie, and Harry exhaled sharply.

"Jesus, Peter."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"No, fuck that right now. Peter, you're bleeding."

Peter leaned back against the wall as Harry leaned over him, pulling down the leftover shreds of his suit.

"You need- I- shit, Peter. I don't know what to do. I'm calling May."

"No-"

"Don't. I'm calling her." Harry placed his hand on Peter's side, making him wince. He held his phone to his ear.

"She isn't answering," he muttered.

"I- I have first aid stuff under the sink."

"Okay. Good." Harry reached into the cabinet, pulling out the bag Peter kept stashed under there. "Thank god I took medical basics last year."

He began to cut the webbing and pull it away from Peter's skin.

"This looks bad. Like,  _ really  _ bad. How long did you just let it be like this?"

"Um… a couple days, maybe."

"God, Peter. You- god." He got to work. "I- I don't know how well I'm gonna do at this. You need to go to the hospital!"

"No, I- no hospitals. That's too risky."

"Peter, I'll try but… I'm scared. I- what if you die right here?"

"Hey, Karen" Peter spoke, making Harry tilt his head to the side, confused. "Um, I need you to talk my friend through some stuff."

He pulled out his earpiece, handing it to Harry.

"Oh- uh- okay." He put it in, looking surprised when he heard the voice of the AI. "Er- hello. Can you tell me about this?"

He nodded and Karen began to give him instructions, taking a deep breath.

"Okay. Try to stay still. This'll take a while."

***

Harry had helped Peter move to the couch after he had finished helping him, a grueling process that consisted mainly of Karen's voice guiding the boy's fingers and Peter doing his best not to fall unconscious because of the pain. The burn wounds in his torso were still raw, but Harry had found some cream that had helped soothe the pain. He wasn't bleeding anymore, and his vitals had become more stable. Harry tried to call May again, but still had no luck, leaving her a voicemail in as calm of a tone as possible, which was hard when his hands were covered in blood that wasn't his own.

"Thanks, Harry," Peter mumbled, his voice exhausted.

"I'm just glad you didn't die on me." Harry sat down beside him. "Dunno what I would've done."

There was silence for a few moments before Peter propped himself up, looking at Harry.

"You didn't have to do all that. Especially not for me."

"What do you mean by 'especially'?".

"I… I guess just that I'm Spider-man. And- and maybe I didn't deserve your help. As… as both Spider-man and Peter Parker."

"Peter, I'm sorry if anything I ever said about Spider-man made you feel like you didn't deserve help. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions about his intentions."

"I've made so many mistakes, Harry," Peter said miserably. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"You don't have to apologize for that. I can see why you didn't want to tell me. But,God, Peter, you  _ cannot  _ just go about hiding when you're hurt. You could've died! How do u think that would've made  _ me  _ feel?!"

"I'm really sorry."

Harry huffed.

"It's okay. Just don't ever do that again. If you need help, just ask someone. Please don't think that you don't deserve help. Everyone does shit they regret sometimes. Everybody messes up. I know it's even harder for you, being a superhero and all… but it doesn't mean you should give yourself any less attention."

Peter closed his eyes, leaning back, the tiredness washing over him.

"I think I understand that more now. You're a great friend, Harry. Thanks for… saving my life."

Harry smiled softly, wrapping his arms around Peter.

"I could never lose you. You mean a lot to me, Pete. In a lot of ways. And… Spider-man isn't so bad."

Peter smiled back at him, letting himself relax with Harry hugging him.

"That's good to hear."

"Yeah. Hey, by the way, what  _ happened _ ?"

There was no reply. Peter had already fallen asleep.

"It figures."

Harry laid Peter back down, moving to give him space.

"I'll always be here to help you, Peter. No matter what."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading <3


	21. and they all fall down (PART 1/3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Does it hurt, Tony? Does it hurt knowing you stand there, helpless, while I take your family from you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 21: torture  
> This is a multi-part whump with a combo of prompts so stay tuned
> 
> TW: a pinch of dehumamization and psychological torture
> 
> written by me :))

Darkness. That was all Peter could see as felt himself coming to his senses, the cold on the ground soaking into his body and leaving him shivering. He tried to lift his head but felt it troublesome when a wave of pain and nausea washed over him, forcing him to curl up into a ball and wait for it to pass.

He didn't know how he had gotten here, really. The last thing he remembered was storming out of the Avengers compound in a fit of anger at his father, Steve. What had he been angry about?

Tony Stark, his other dad, had been missing for six days. Peter wanted so desperately to go out and look for him, but Steve had been adamant about not losing another person he loved.

Maybe Peter should've listened.

He rolled over onto his back, staring up into the emptiness. The room was pitch dark, and he couldn't even see his hand when he put it in front of his face. Coughing, he forced himself to sit up.

Suddenly, the dark of the room became so blindingly white that Peter covered his eyes, groaning from the sudden overload of brightness. When he squinted them open again, there was someone standing over him.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Peter Parker."

He shaded his eyes from the light and the blurry image of the man standing before him came into focus.

"T- Toomes? Vulture?!"

Adrian smiled down at him.

"Listen, Parker, I warned you. You mess with my family, I mess with yours."

"How did you get out of prison?"

He shrugged.

"I've got friends in high places. So high, in fact, not only did they manage to bring me you, they also brought me another someone special."

Peter jabbed out at Toomes, trying to throw him to the ground, but cried out in frustration when he felt his strength resist. 

"Ah, I wouldn't try that. I've given you this special little drug, you see-" he pushed Peter's head back. "that depletes you temporarily of your enhancements. It was made just for you. Doesn't that make you feel so special?"

"Temporarily," Peter muttered under his breath.

"Don't worry. There's more where that came from." Toomes grabbed Peter by the arm and hauled him up. The boy felt a sudden stab of pain in his neck and, when he lifted his hand up, he felt a round, metal disk embedded into his skin.

"What- what the hell?"

"Just in case, Parker."

Peter, still weak and nauseous, was dragged from the room into another, stumbling over his feet.

"I think you'll like what you find in there," the man said, tossing Peter near a heavy, locked steel door. He typed a code into the panel on the side and it slid open. Peter peered in.

"Dad?"

"Peter? Jesus Christ."

"Dad!"

Peter broke out into a run towards Tony, holding out his arms.

"Peter, no, wait-"

Suddenly, he was struck by an electrical shock that sent him tripping and falling against the smooth, concrete floor. He screamed as white-hot sparks of pain shot out through his entire body. Tony was shouting something, but Peter couldn't hear him. When the pain stopped, he laid on the floor, gasping for air.

"Did I say you could do that?" Adrian said smugly, holding up a small remote as he walked towards Peter.

"You fucking  _ bastard _ !" Tony shouted, moving to shield Peter, but he was just barely out of reach, a heavy metal chain connecting his hand to the wall. "How could you?! How could you bring him here?! He's just a fucking kid! He's  _ my  _ kid!"

Toomes lifted Peter up by his hair, moving him into a sitting position.

"Oh,  _ this  _ kid is yours? I had no idea!" He said sarcastically, shoving Peter closer to Tony. "Well, you both have caused quite a havoc in my life. I lost my daughter, my wife, and my home because of what this little shit did to me. And you, Stark, were the catalyst for all of it." He lifted his hands. "I'd just say I'm returning the favor."

Toomes let Peter's head go, walking away from them.

"I'll let you two get settled in," he said, before closing the door. Peter heard the telltale click of a lock behind him.

"Dad…" he murmured softly, stumbling to sit closer to Tony. The man wrapped the boy up in his shaky arms.

"Jesus, Peter. Why are you here? How did you get here?"

Peter shook his head.

"It's- it's my fault. Steve told me not to leave and come look for you, but I did anyway because I just  _ couldn't  _ stay in the building the whole time when you could've been hurt, but I should've listened to him. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Peter, it's not your fault." Tony lifted the boy's chin. "You shouldn't be here, but it's not your fault that you care so much."

"I'm just glad you're okay." Peter whispered, a tear slipping down his cheek. "I couldn't lose another dad."

"You won't lose me, bud. Ever."

They both stayed quiet for a minute.

"Did- did he do anything to you?"

Tony leaned back against the wall.

"Nah. The old bastard might've roughed on me a little, but for the most part he's been all bark, no bite." He looked over at Peter. "This is the same guy you dealt with a couple years ago, right?'

"Yeah. During my homecoming."

Tony nodded, and Peter lifted his hand to the back of his neck, feeling the cold metal of the device implanted in him.

"I'm not gonna let him hurt you, Pete."

"I won't let him hurt you, either." Peter stood up. "We have to get out of here."

"Trust me, I've tried. The place is sealed up." Tony gestured to the door. "I figure you could probably break us out, but he probably thought of that one, too."

"He drugged me with something. I can't stick, and I'm not strong anymore." Peter slumped back down against the wall. "What do you think he's gonna do to us?"

"I… I don't know, Peter. But I know I'll protect you."

He let Peter lean against his chest, and the boy felt himself growing tired.

Just then, they heard the door sliding open.

"Kid, come here." The man directed, and Peter shrank behind Tony.

"What makes you think I'm gonna listen to you?"

"Because, well, to put it simply, it's either your or him that gets hurt. You wouldn't want to let dear old dad face the music for your mistakes, would you?"

"Peter, don't listen to him," Tony warned.

"Come here, Peter. Or," he continued, another man walking into the room behind him, "we'll use him instead."

The man took Tony by the arms and pinned him against the wall, holding a small knife threateningly close to his stomach.

"Okay! Okay, fine! Don't hurt him!" Peter lifted his hands. "Please!"

"No, Peter!" Tony struggled under the man's grip. Adrian smiled.

"Good choice, Parker. It'll be much more fun to make you scream than him."

He pressed a button on his remote and Peter fell to the floor, writhing as electricity ran through him.

"Don't hurt him! Hurt me! He's just a  _ kid _ !"

Toomes kicked Peter, forcing him onto his back.

"Oh, is that so? This  _ kid  _ is the one who single handedly ruined my life. I warned him of what I'd do to him if he didn't listen. The boy simply didn't heed my warning, Stark. He's going to pay for that."

"It wasn't his fault! He was listening to me, Toomes! Get your filthy hands off of him!" Tony reached forward but Adrian lifted the remote, pointing it towards Peter.

"I'm going to make this simple for you, Tony. All you have to do is sit and watch while I tear him apart, piece by piece.  _ Exactly  _ like he did to me."

"Exactly?" Tony's face morphed into an expression of pure anger. "He ran into a  _ fucking  _ fire to save your miserable life!"

"And that was also his mistake. He would've been much better off if he had left me to die." Toomes shrugged. "Did you know, Stark, that I'm not even allowed to see my own  _ daughter _ ? My Liz barely even  _ looked  _ at me at the trial. How do you think it feels, knowing that your child is being taken away from you? If you don't know yet, you will soon."

He kicked Peter hard in the stomach and Tony let out an angry shout, pushing past the man and reaching for Adrian, only to be stopped when the chain around his wrist drew taut. He pulled at it as hard as he could, but Peter was just barely out of reach.

"I'd suggest you don't struggle. The more you piss me off, the more I'll hurt him. Stay quiet, and he might just make it out of this."

"Get  _ off  _ me!" Peter shouted, pushing Adrian's foot off of him and hitting in the chest. The man just laughed.

"That's cute. You think you'll get away from me this time. Mason?"

The man handed something to Toomes, and Peter and Tony both realized at the same time what it was.

"No, wait-" Peter tried to dodge, but Toomes threw him to the floor before he could react, jabbing the needle into his skin as Tony yelled.

"Goodnight, Spider-man," he said, standing over Peter as the boy felt himself grasping to stay above the surface, trying to crawl towards Tony as the drug took effect. Giving up, he let himself fall limp on the ground as his eyelids shut. The darkness came back slowly, like ink blots bleeding through paper, until he couldn't see anything at all.

***

When Peter woke up, his head was spinning again. He groaned, reaching out to feel the stone walls of the room he was in. He kept his eyes squeezed shut for a moment, willing himself to wake up from whatever horrible nightmare he was in. Willing himself to open his eyes and be surrounded by soft blankets, following the scent of sugary sweetness down the stairs to find Steve cooking him chocolate chip pancakes while Tony hummed quietly to himself as he opened the curtains and set the table. He wanted Steve to give him a kiss on the forehead and murmur "How'd you sleep, kiddo?" and to guide Peter to the table before they all sat down to eat the amazing food.

But that wasn't his reality. And, as he opened his eyes and the light came flooding back in, all he felt was cold. He was so cold his teeth were chattering, his cheeks turning a rosy pink. He was so cold he pulled out his hand to pull his thin t-shirt tighter to his skin, trying to preserve any warmth he may still have left.

And when he lifted his head and rolled onto his back, he felt a different pressure on his neck. Lifting his hands up, he realized that a thick, metal collar had been clasped around him, a chain connecting him to the wall. Tony laid beside him, his chest rising up and down steadily and a thin stream of blood running down his forehead that sent a rush of pain through Peter.

"Tony," he stuttered, almost unable to talk because of the clattering of his teeth and the numbness in his lips. "Dad. Dad, wake up!"

"Peter…" he heard the man mumble, his eyes opening. He came to life almost instantly, reaching out to feel him. "Fuck, you're freezing."

Peter nodded, drawing his arms around his chest as Tony sat up and pulled him closer.

"God, what did he do to you?" Tony whispered, rubbing Peter's back to try and help him warm up.

"C-cold-" was all he could damage, shivering. He could feel the warmth of Tony's body seeping into him, but it wasn't doing much.

"I know. I'm sorry. I- I'm trying to help you. Hey, don't fall back asleep."

"I- I- want to go home." Peter whispered it so quietly he hoped Tony hadn't heard him say it, but of course, he did.

"Me, too, bud. Me, too."

Peter pulled at the restraint around his neck, but it only seemed to get tighter with as much as he yanked at it, and his fingers were so shaky and numb that he couldn't grip it properly.

"Is- is it c-cold to you, too?"

"No… I think he put something in you." Tony continued to rub Peter's arms, trying desperately to bring his body temperature back up. "Stay awake, Peter," he said again, noticing that Peter was beginning to relax against his chest.

"Trying."

This time when Adrian walked into the room, neither of them even bothered to look up.

"Had a good rest, I hope." He clapped his hands together. "I see your boy is taking well to the serum I put in him. I had a little help. You know Dr. Octavius, I assume, Peter."

Tony stayed silent, holding Peter a little closer to him, struggling to hold on when Toomes took hold of the chain connected to the collar on Peter's neck. He pulled, as a warning, and Tony reluctantly let go, because he knew Peter would choke to death if he didn't.

"Now that you're both awake, let's test something out."

He hit Peter across the face, much to the anger of Tony, who stood up on shaky legs and ran forward, grabbing Toomes by the shoulders and shoving him backwards. As soon as he did, though, he instantly regretted it when Adrian took Peter down with him, kicking the boy in the stomach.

"That wasn't a smart choice, Tony. You know as well as I do he deserves this."

"He doesn't. You wanna know what you deserve, though?"

"What's that?"

"To rot in hell."

Toomes clicked his remote on and Peter screamed. When he let go of the button, the boy lay on the floor, shivering.

"Say that again," he dared Tony, but the man knew better. He fell quiet.

"Good. You're a quick learner."

He let Peter stay on the ground, curled up in a ball, and stood next to him, holding onto his chain as a constant threat to Tony.

"Tell me something, Stark. Do you really care for this boy? Perhaps you're just trying to make up for the… negligent way your parents raised you."

"You don't get to talk about me or my parents," Tony spat, but his voice died out when Toomes tugged at the chain and Peter let out a whimper.

"I'm just making a statement. Maybe it'd be better for the both of you if he didn't have to be disappointed by yet another father figure." He clicked his tongue. "So sad, isn't it? The poor boy can't seem to keep one person in his life for all that long. It's an… interesting trend."

Tony eyed him.

"It was surprising to me that he kept trying to stop me even after I told him I'd take everyone he loved from him. It was almost as if he wanted it."

"He didn't want it. He just knew he had to do the right thing. He has a good heart. Which you'd know nothing about."

"Nothing?! I spent eighteen years of my life struggling to provide for my family because you, Tony Stark, got my career stripped from me!" He pulled up on the chain and Peter closed his eyes, struggling to pull it back down as his breathing became labored. "And when I had  _ finally  _ found the thing that was going to let me come home to them for good, to have enough money to support us for  _ years,  _ this little  _ bitch  _ ruined it!"

"You were trying to provide for them by selling illegal weapons, Toomes! You should've gotten a real fucking job!"

Mistake. Toomes hit the button, and Peter's eyes rolled back in his head. He couldn't scream, though. Not while he wasn't able to breathe.

"Does it hurt, Tony? Does it hurt knowing you stand there,  _ helpless,  _ while I take your family from you?"

"Let him go," Tony said, trying to keep his voice as even as possible. "You can do whatever the hell you want to me. You can kill me, I don't care. Just  _ let him go. _ "

"Oh, I will. Don't you worry about that. Peter Parker is not going to die in here. He is, however, going to realize  _ exactly  _ what he is, and you and him both are going to pay for interfering with the life I worked so hard to build."

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why do I always be putting my comfort characters through it???? Am I ever going to stop??? (probably not)
> 
> I literally love this one so much it might become a separate, longer work too-
> 
> Anyways hope you're having a wonderful dayyyy :)


	22. and they all fall down (PART 2/3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Don't you worry, Tony. No one is going to find you down here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 22: burned  
> This is part 2/3 pf the prompt combo
> 
> written by me :)

"Peter. Bud. C'mon."

"No… leave me alone."

Tony sighed, rolling Peter over.

"You have to eat something."

"Not hungry."

Tony ran his fingers through Peter's hair, which was now matted with sweat.

"I know. But you have to eat. Please. For me?"

Peter rolled over, looking at Tony, his eyes tired, dark circles lining them. Tony gave him a soft, comforting smile.

They didn't know how long it had been. Tony estimated three, maybe four days? According to Peter, he had already been there for six days before the boy had gotten there, too. Peter was doing a lot worse than he let on, and Tony was very much aware of that. There was a red ring around the collar on his neck from where he had tried to pull it off, with no luck, and that was just one of the many marks on his body. Tony was just scared, more than anything.

"You haven't talked much today."

"Tired."

Tony helped Peter sit up, a pain wrenching in his gut every time the boy winced. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

"Just eat this."

He handed Peter a bowl of lukewarm oatmeal, which he obliged to eat in slow, small bites. Tony sat down beside him, watching him as Peter let his head fall against the man's shoulder.

"Peter, I'm so sorry."

"Not your fault."

"Yes, it is. I'm supposed to protect you. I've just been standing there watching you get hurt. And I can't even get us out of here."

"I love you, dad." Peter looked up at him, his brown eyes meeting Tony's. "I love you, okay? This isn't your fault. We're gonna get out of here. We will."

_ God, the kid is such a trooper.  _ Tony wished he could be like that.

Peter ate for a few more minutes before handing the half-eaten oatmeal to Tony.

"You need to eat, too."

"I already did. Don't worry about me."

That was a lie, of course, but Peter didn't need to know that.

"Have a nice dinner?"

Tony rolled his eyes.

"You know, I really don't see the point of you acting all high-and-mighty-" he began, his voice cutting off when Toomes held his goddamn remote up in the air.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the cell this morning, hm?"

"How long are you planning to keep us here? Because our friends will find us and kick your ass before you can say 'Vulture sucks'."

"Don't you worry, Tony. No one is going to find you down here."

"Mind indulging us with a location?"

Toomes smirked.

"I would, but then I might just have to kill you both."

He pulled Peter sharply from Tony's grip by way of the chain, causing him to cry out with the sudden pain. Tony tried to grab him, but he was pulled back by his own restraints.

"I've been thinking a lot about what I would like to do with you today, Peter." Adrian bent down over him. Peter lay beneath him, exhausted and hurting. "And an idea struck me. Remember when you made our plane crash, and it caused an explosion? Boy, that was some crazy fire, huh, Parker?"

"Don't you dare," Tony warned, but he had the impending understanding that there was really nothing he could do. He fiddled with the cuff on his hand as Toomes laughed, but he only ended up digging painfully into his skin, blood dripping down his wrist.

"In retrospect, I'd say you're lucky you didn't die in that fire. It hurt  _ me _ , though, that's for sure."

Another man walked in, handing something to Toomes. He lifted Peter by the hair.

"Toomes, don't- please-" he muttered.

"I still have the scar on my arm to remember it by. What do you say we give  _ you  _ some scars, eh kid?"

Peter pulled away, only to choke on the collar around his neck as Toomes yanked at it. He turned on the device in Peter's neck, and he writhed in pain until falling limp, panting. Tony's heart was racing. He pulled as hard as he could on the chain, reaching out with his other hand.

"Peter!" He shouted. He hated this. He hated feeling so  _ helpless _ as he watched his son be hurt. There was  _ nothing  _ Tony could do. His stomach churned. He squeezed his eyes shut and waited.

The first scream as the blowtorch made contact with the skin on Peter's torso was quieter, and Tony knew it was because his kid wanted to try and make it easier on him.

"Peter…"

Every scream after only got worse. Each cry of anguish, of desperate pain felt like a bullet wound to Tony's heart. He fell to the floor, sobbing as he reached out for Peter. There were tears in the boy's eyes, and Toomes only had an expression of satisfaction on his face as he pressed his foot against Peter's stomach and burned into his flesh with the blowtorch.

"That's enough! Please! Stop!"

Tony Stark, the man who had it all, from a loving, super-powered husband to a multi-billion dollar company, was  _ begging  _ as the only child he had ever gotten the chance to raise, the one he loved more than anything in the world, was in pain right in front of him. It beat down on Tony, the knowledge that he had promised to protect Peter yet here he was, helpless while his boy cried and screamed for the man to stop.

The minutes stretched out like  _ eons,  _ and even Peter's screams began to fade out to weak whimpers before Toomes pulled away. Tony glared up at him as he walked past.

"You've got a sturdy kid, there, Stark," he said, smiling as if he had just put Peter through some normal, physical exam. "He won't die. He'll just wish he were dead, with all the pain he's going to be feeling from that."

As soon as the door slammed behind him, Tony reached out.

"Peter," he gasped. "Come closer. Bud, I- I know it hurts. Just… come closer to me."

Peter was laying flat on his back, his foot just barely out of reach of Tony's hand, for as hard as he tried to pull himself to him.

"Peter,  _ please. _ "

_ Please hear me.  _

The boy shifted, moving an inch or two closer to Tony st a painstakingly slow rate. When he was close enough, Tony grabbed him by the foot and dragged him over.

"Fuck."

He closed his eyes at the sight, an awful, nauseous  sensation boiling in his stomach when he saw Peter.

"Hurts," Peter mumbled, his eyes closed and sweat dripping down his forehead. Tony bit his finger, fighting the urge to throw up.

"I know," he whispered. "I know. Fuck, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Peter."

The burn mark stretched all the way up the side of Peter's torso, red and bloody, some parts of his skin so exposed they had been charred. He removed what leftover fragments of Peter's shirt he saw, throwing them to the side. The wound was deeper in some areas than in others, especially close to his stomach.

"Can you hear me, Peter?" He asked, placing his hand on the boy's cheek as gently as he could.

"Yeah, dad," he whispered, opening his eyes to look at Tony.

"I- I don't know what to do. Peter, fuck, I-"

There was nothing Tony could say to him.

_ My fault,  _ his brain was saying.  _ It's all my fault. _

***

_ "What's this one do, Uncle Ben?" _

_ Peter pointed to a lever on his uncle's current project, one of his favorite motorcycles he was doing repairs on. _

_ "That controls the engine. See?" _

_ He turned the key and lifted the lever, and Peter heard the low rumble of the machine. _

_ "Oh, okay. Cool." _

_ "Wanna come down here and check out what I'm working on?" _

_ "Yeah!" _

_ Peter leaned over to look at the engine of the motorcycle. _

_ "Looks pretty busted up," he commented, and Ben laughed. _

_ "It is, isn't it? That's okay, though. You can fix up anything if you have the will to do it." Ben poked Peter teasingly in the side. "Just like you fixed that windmill for your science project." _

_ Peter kicked at the ground, looking down. _

_ "Yeah. I guess." _

_ "Didn't let those bullies get to ya that time, eh? That's my boy." _

_ Peter couldn't help but flash a small smile as he leaned over to poke at the engine, his hand pressed near Ben's, which was holding a welding tool. _

_ Careful, now. Wouldn't want you to burn yourself. Your aunt would kill me." _

_ "Oh, right. Sorry." _

_ Ben shook his head, chuckling as he continued to mold part of the engine back in place, Peter watching attentively. _

_ "Can you teach me how to fix up stuff as good as you do, Ben?" _

_ "Of course. When you're older, I bet you'll be fixing- and making- things way too advanced for an old mechanic like me." He ruffled Peter's hair. "Because you're gonna do great things, Pete. I can promise you that." _

_ Peter grinned. _

_ "You really think so?" _

_ "Oh, I know so." _

_ Peter turned around to face someone else. A smaller man, bent over an opaque, blue table littered with tools. _

_ "You doing okay over there, bud?" _

_ "Yeah, dad." _

_ Tony looked over, craning his neck to see Peter's hands. _

_ "That looks great," he commented, gesturing to the tiny, spider-shaped drone Peter was holding. "You've really got an eye for it, kid." _

_ "Thanks." _

_ Tony put down the tool he was holding, standing up straight to look at the clock. _

_ "I hope your pops is almost done with dinner. Hey Jarvis, could you let Steve know we're starving our asses off down here?" Tony frowned. "Make sure you also tell him he'd better save room for… dessert." _

_ "Dad!" Peter said indignantly. "Gross!" _

_ Tony laughed, holding up his hands. _

_ "Right. Gotta keep it PG for the kiddo. Sorry." _

_ They went up a few minutes later, where Steve was already putting out plates. Peter ran to help set the table. _

_ "Couldn't've kept it in your pants, huh, Tony?" Steve smirked, pressing a kiss to the smaller man's face. Behind them, Peter pretended to gag. _

_ "Hey, I was hungry. You can't blame me." _

_ "Whatever." _

_ "What's for dinner tonight, oh lovely cook of the house?" Tony asked, jokingly pulling out Steve's chair and bowing towards it. _

_ "I made Peter's favorite." _

_ "Lasagna?!" His face instantly brightened up. _

_ "Yup." _

_ Tony helped by serving the food and they dug in, Peter relishing every bite. _

_ "How'd I do, squirt? It's your uncle's recipe." _

_ Peter stayed quiet for a moment, looking down at his food. Steve waited nervously, wondering if he had overstepped. _

_ "He would've been proud," the boy murmured, shooting Steve a small smile. "You did great, pops." _

_ "Thanks. That's really good to hear." _

_ "He used to make me this every time I accomplished something big. You know, like ace my finals or win a decathlon contest." _

_ Steve hesitated. Peter's talks about his uncle came far and few. It was a touchy subject for him. _

_ "That sounds like something to look forward to." _

_ "It was." _

_ "Hey, Pete?" _

_ "Yeah?" _

_ Peter looked up at Steve, who shot Tony a glance before smiling. _

_ "Thanks for giving us a chance." _

_ Peter gave him a toothy grin. _

_ "I love you guys. Thanks for giving me another shot at having parents." _

_ The world began to spin, and Peter felt himself growing dizzy. He could still see Tony's face, but it was… different. _

_ "Peter," he was whispering. _

"Peter."

"Ugh…" the boy groaned. It was all he could manage as the wave of sheer pain took over him and he pressed his lips together, doing his best not to scream. Tony sat over him.

"Thank god. Was worried I lost you there."

"Dad…" Peter muttered, moving his hand up but deciding better of it when pain shot up his side.

"Hey. It's okay. You're okay."

"How… bad is it?"

Tony's eyes instantly widened, and he hesitated.

"Um… it's not terrible."

"Liar," Peter said, coughing but managing to extend his lips in a tiny smile.

"I'm so, so sorry, bud. I could never say I'm sorry enough times to make up for this."

"You don't have to… say sorry… at all."

Tony shook his head. Peter closed his eyes again, his dream flashing back through his mind. He wanted to go back to where it was simple.

"Deserved… it."

He said it softly, retreating into his shell of guilt as he felt Tony's hand on his cheek.

"Don't you dare say that, Peter Benjamin. You do  _ not  _ deserve to be hurt like this, and I  _ never  _ want to hear you say some bullshit like that again."

Peter loved his hand to his chest, feeling around. He felt… strange, there. His entire side was tingling with a nagging, irritable pain. But it didn't feel so unbearable until his fingertips brushed the surface of the wound and he grunted, pulling his hand back.

"Ah… there it is."

"Hey, don't- let's just not make it any worse." Tony lifted Peter's hand and squeezed it in his own.

It had felt so numb, at first. Peter was so busy trying to catch his breath he barely even felt it when the flames flickered at his skin. He didn't feel it until Toomes had gotten a little deeper in, hitting nerves and tissue alike. Then, it hurt more than anything Peter could imagine. It was red, and it was ripping all the breath from his lungs and forcing all the tears out of his eyes. He could hear Tony screaming for Toomes to stop. Peter silently willed it to end. His brain seemed to hone in on nothing but the god-awful pain that felt like he was being stabbed with a thousand hot knives at once. And when it was over, the pain didn't go away.

"I wanna go home, dad," Peter whispered. If he had kept hope in himself before, it was quickly fading. He'd rather die here than wait for Toomes to come up with another twisted way to make him feel even more pain.

"I know, Peter. I know."

As gently as he could, Tony brought Peter closer to his chest.

"I miss… pops. And Aunt May. And Harley and Nat. I even miss Sam and Bucky, too."

"I miss them, too, bud." Tony sighed. "I'm gonna get you out of here. Even if it's the last thing I do."

"Please don't say that…" If there was one thing Peter couldn't bear to think about, it was losing yet another of the people he loved.

"Sorry. We'll make it out of here together."

"Yeah," Peter mumbled, even though he didn't believe it himself. "We will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys i am sorry this took so long, I've had a rollercoaster of a day lmao
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	23. and they all fall down (PART 3/3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "They won't find you down here. The most they'll find is your boy's cold, dead, corpse, and you, Tony, standing over him. You may as well have been the one to do this to him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 23: "don't look"  
> Even though this doesn't follow the prompt very well I don't care bc I love it
> 
> written by me :)  
> P.s. make sure to read the end note ;))

"Steve. You still with us?"

Steve was staring down at a picture in his hands. It showed the smiling face of a boy as he captured the two men behind him in a moment of happiness, sunlight illuminating the excited expressions on their faces as they walked up to the first house they had bought together.

"I'm here."

Sam crossed his arms, turning around.

"You know, you can take a break if you need to."

"No, I can't."

"You can, actually." Sam sighed. "I know how hard this is for you, and I'm sorry. But don't compromise yourself when you have an entire team of friends ready to help you. You might miss your chance at saving them."

"Who knows if we'll even be able to save them now? They're probably gone."

"Woah, pessimistic much?" Sam shook his head. "I know for a fact Tony definitely wouldn't let anyone kill him, even more so Peter. And Peter is an incredibly strong kid. He can handle a lot more than we sometimes think." He smiled wistfully, shaming his head. "That dude's probably busy annoying the crap out of whoever is trying to get into his head."

"Did you scan the data?" Steve asked, still looking at the photo in his hand.

"Yeah. I did. A hundred times. There have been zero sightings of them. Zero reported disturbances that could mean something. Zero leads."

"I need you to go through a list of all of the people who have been put down by them in the past. And me. Anyone who might be holding a grudge against us."

"Well, as far as Tony goes, anyone he's ever had a clash with is either dead or serving a life sentence." Sam leaned down to pull up past case files. "Same with you. Well, besides Bucky, but he's cool now, so he doesn't really count."

Steve turned around to begin flipping through the files on the display table, his fingers moving quickly.

"Quentin Beck?"

"Dead."

"Aldrich Killian?"

"Also dead."

"What about this one? Adrian Toomes." Steve pointed at the guy's face. "Also known as the Vulture."

Sam bent down to take a look.

"He's serving jail time."

"Make sure he really is."

"Steve-"

"Do it, Sam. Please."

Sam nodded.

"I'll take Buck and we'll go investigate the prison."

"Thank you."

"Eat something, okay? Try and get some rest if you can."

Sam left the room to grab Bucky, leaving Steve to slump down in his chair and place the photo on the table in front of him.

_ "Hey, pops, guess what?" _

_ "What's up, kiddo?" _

_ Peter came bouncing over, carrying a backpack in his hand. _

_ "I grabbed some more stuff from May's. She said to say hello to you, by the way, and that you should come over for dinner sometime." _

_ "Oh, yeah? Maybe I will. I've got plenty of things to say about you." _

_ Peter laughed. _

_ "Dad's gonna be working for  _ hours, _ " he said, stretching out the word in exaggeration, "and I was wondering if you wanted to help me build my new Lego Enterprise." _

_ "Er… enterprise?" _

_ "Yup! It's from Star Trek." _

_ "Oh… was that the one with the furry monster?" _

_ Peter faked a disappointed sigh. _

_ "No, that was Star Wars. Star  _ Trek  _ is the one with that bossy alien guy. Y'know, Spock?" _

_ "Yeah, now I know what you're talking about." _

_ He really didn't, but that was okay. As long as Peter was happy, so was Steve. _

_ "So this Lego thing," he said, gesturing the box Peter was pulling out of his backpack. "Is it complicated? You might have to show me how it's done." _

_ "It's pretty straightforward." _

_ Peter dumped a bunch of bags of small parts out onto the table, a book falling out with it. _

_ "See this little instruction manual?" He held it up. "It tells you which pieces to put together. For example, you take, uh, this one-" he pulled out a strange-looking bit with three cylindrical bumps. "And you click it onto this one, in this position." _

_ The pieces snapped together and Peter smiled up at him. _

_ "Got it?" _

_ "I see." Steve flipped through the manual. "There sure are a lot of steps in here." _

_ "Yeah, it usually takes me and Ned a couple nights to do one set." _

_ "Hm. I guess we better get to work then, huh?" _

_ They worked late into the night, and Tony didn't come back upstairs until they were almost finished, when it was almost midnight. There were pieces scattered around the table and Peter had fallen asleep on his hands, snoring quietly. _

_ "Wow, that really must've tired him out," Tony said, gesturing to Peter before sitting down next to Steve. _

_ "He was really focused on it." _

_ Tony leaned over to take a picture, causing Steve to send him a skeptical look. _

_ "What? I'll use it to embarass him one day, trust me." _

_ Steve shook his head, smiling softly. He glanced at Peter, who looked so peaceful dozing on the table. _

_ "Pretty different from the whole running around taking down bad guys gig, huh?" Tony said quietly. _

_ "It's different. But it's good. And I wouldn't give it up for the world. I'd never give up either of you." _

_ "I know, Cap. You're too stubborn for that." Tony leaned over to give him a kiss, which Steve returned, the same tiny butterflies in his stomach he felt no matter how many times he kissed Tony. _

_ "What do you say we get the little troublemaker off to bed and hang out for a while?" _

_ Steve nodded. _

_ "I like that idea." _

***

"He broke out of prison two weeks ago. I can't believe we let that slip. I'm so sorry, Steve."

A guilty-looking Sam was standing beside Bucky, who was chewing on one of his fingers nervously as he watched the bigger man.

"It's not your fault, Sam." Although he sort of felt like it was, he pushed down his desire to be angry at anything and everything he could.

"You think he's our guy?"

"I'm not sure. I have a hunch."

"I wouldn't be surprised. That guy stinks of evil," Bucky said, pointing to the picture of Toomes on the display table. "When I find him, I'm going to rip off his arms and shove them up his ass."

"And this is why we do  _ not  _ let Bucky watch movies above PG-13." Sam crossed his arms. "I'll try and trace him. See if there's anything we can find about where he might be."

"Thanks, Sam. Really. I appreciate it."

"Yeah, I know. I may not like the kid very much, but I'll say the little bug has grown on me."

"He said he liked my arm," Bucky said quietly.

"Just work fast. I'll come down to help you in a minute. I'm gonna call the rest of the team."

_ This could be it. He could finally find the rest of his family. _

A few hours later, Steve had gotten everyone regrouped in a meeting room.

"Did anyone find anything?"

"The last place he was seen was exactly six days ago, at this train station," Nat said, pulling up a blurred image. "We think that's where he snatched Peter."

Clint nodded.

"After that, our facial scanners don't detect any signs of him. But we picked up this van parked outside the subway station at the time he was spotted, that disappeared a few minutes later."

"Did you get a plate number?"

"Of course I got a plate number. It took a while, but we eventually found the same van parked here." He pulled up an image of the vehicle parked outside some sort of warehouse. "This is just outside of Rose Hill, Tennessee."

"I know a guy who lives down there. He's friends with Peter and Tony."

"Well, it's doubtful, but maybe he knows something."

"I'll give him a call," Steve replied, turning around and picking up his phone. He really hope the person he needed would pick up.

"Er, hello? Who's callin'?"

"Is this Harley Keener?"

"Depends who's askin'."

"I'm Steve. Tony's husband. Peter's-" his voice cracked, and he had to swallow. "Peter's dad."

"Oh, Steve! Hey!" Harley's voice brightened up as he recognized the references. "It's been a while since I saw you. What's the matter?"

"Well, kid, uh… Peter and Tony are missing."

There was a sound of shuffling, and when Harley spoke again, he didn't sound so happy anymore.

"What're you talkin' about?"

"Tony's been missing for almost two weeks. Pete's been gone one."

"Oh, geez… how can I help?"

That's what Steve liked about Harley. He got straight to the point and didn't hesitate to help his friends.

"Do you know anything about, uh, Milligan's Auto Shop?"

"Yeah. There's a warehouse for that company just a few minutes from my place." Harley paused. "My dad used to work there before he… won the lottery."

_ Before he left,  _ Steve knew he was saying.

"Do you think you could go check it out? There's a van parked there. We think it may have been used by the person who took them."

"Of course. I doubt whoever parked it there will still be there, though. If their in the area, it's probably somewhere down by the river. I've heard rumors about ugly shacks leading to old, fortified bunkers. Never checked it out for myself, though."

"Thank you, Harley. Can you call me back and let me know what you find."

"Yup. I'll be back faster than a sheepdog tyin' up the herd!"

Steve didn't know how long it took for a sheepdog to "tie up the herd", but he assumed it was fast.

"Thanks, Harley."

"I've got no problem helpin' out those two."

He hung up the phone and Steve went back to the group.

"He's gonna help?" Clint asked, raising his eyebrow.

"Yeah."

"Okay. We should head out there, too."

Nat nodded.

"I'll go get the jet ready. Meet out there in 5." She eyed them all, who were standing around the table, looking unsure. "What are you idiots waiting around for? Suit up. The sooner we get there, the better chance we have."

_ A better chance at getting there before it's too late. _

***

"Peter… stop. Don't look at it."

Tony took Peter's hand and pulled it away from the boy's torso.

"It's my problem," he replied shortly, pushing himself further up the wall so he could sit up a little straighter.

"It isn't doing you any good to keep focusing on it."

"Keep focusing on it?" Peter asked, his voice suddenly laced with anger. "Gee, because that's  _ so  _ easy. It's not like I feel like my insides are melting from the inside out every  _ fucking  _ second."

His eyes instantly widened.

"I'm sorry. I- I don't know why I said that. I didn't mean it."

Tony shook his head, pursing his lips together before squeezing Peter's hand in his.

"It's not your fault."

"Not yours either, dad."

Peter knew Tony was hurting, too. He knew because, even as he pretended to fall asleep (he couldn't sleep now, with the constant, lingering pain that would increase to an agonizing burn whenever anything made contact with the wound), Tony would whisper "I'm sorry," to him over and over again, scraping his fingertips through Peter's hair. He knew because he realized Tony wasn't, in fact, eating like he said he was. Instead, he letting Peter have what little rations Toomes supplied them with. He looked like shit. Peter knew he looked the same, though.

When Toomes came in the next morning, he had a different expression on his face than the usual nonchalant facade. His eyes were narrowed, and he spent no time waiting for Peter to prepare himself before grabbing the chain and tanking on it as hard as he could. Peter fell to the ground, hitting his fave against the floor and tasting blood a minute later.

"You two are in some real trouble." Toomes dragged Peter towards him. Tony tried to keep a hold on his foot.

"Dad… let go," Peter choked out. Tony trying to bring him back was only causing the collar to dig more into his skin.

"What's your fucking problem? We didn't do  _ anything. _ "

"Oh yeah? Then why, Tony, was there a sightings of an Avengers quinjet an hour ago?"

_ They found us,  _ Peter thought, a spark of hope lighting inside him despite the pain he was in. He lifted his head, but was only met with a blinding stab of pain as Toomes dug his foot into Peter's burned side, pinning him to the floor. Peter bit his lip to try and stop himself from screaming, clenching down so hard he felt another wave of blood in his mouth, running down his chin.

"I know I said I wasn't going to kill you. Now, though, I'm not so sure I should keep that promise."

Toome reached over for something behind the door and, before Peter could react, he was being slammed with a bucket of freezing, icy water, trickling into his burn wound and only increasing the agony by a tenfold. Peter lay, shivering.

"We had nothing to do with it, Toomes!" Tony raised his voice, but quieted down again when Peter was suddenly ripped with a bolt of electricity.

"Doesn't matter. I'm still pissed. They won't find you down here. The most they'll find is your boy's cold, dead, corpse, and you, Tony, standing over him. You may as well have been the one to do this to him."

"Dad, don't-" Peter started, but he was silenced again with another shock. He tried to meet Tony's eyes, but the man was avoiding his gaze. Toomes lifted him up, slamming his back against the opposite wall.

"I'm still debating whether I should draw this out. I figure a painful death will be much more satisfying. Don't you agree, Peter? I know your dad does."

He dug his fingers into Peter's side, making him  _ howl  _ as the wound was worsened by the man. His legs pushed upward and he tried to lift himself up, but he was too cold and weak for his brain and his body to cooperate properly. Toomes pulled up at the collar around his neck and Peter gripped at it, trying to pull it back down as he wheeled, breathing becoming harder and harder by the second. Toomes hit him across the face, hard, and Peter blinked, trying to clear his blurry vision. When Toomes pulled out a gun, Tony's mangled cry from behind them was enough to make Peter start to squirm again. He kicked upward as hard as he could, and Toomes stumbled back, recovering quickly. Peter dragged himself back towards Tony.

"Mistake, Parker."

A gunshot. Peter didn't even scream at this point. He just fell limp, his head spinning. He knee had been shattered, blood soaking into his pants and creating a puddle on the ground. Peter let his head fall back, his vision going in and out of focus. When he tried to move his leg, all he felt was heat and a strange throbbing sensation. Toomes pressed the barrel of his gun into the wound and Peter pressed his head against the ground, shutting his eyes tight and clenching his teeth, his breath coming out in short, irregular bursts. He could still hear Tony screaming, but it wasn't so loud anymore. Nothing was except the roaring in Peter's ears. He began to feel that going away, too. There was another echoing gunshot. Peter felt like his shoulder had just been ripped in two. His mouth was parted, and each blink of his eyes was becoming slower. Tony was still screaming, still reaching out for him, but Peter wasn't listening.

The roaring in his ears faded.

Suddenly, Peter saw light.

_ Did I just die? _ was the only thing in his head as the light got brighter and brighter, flashing red and white shadows across the room. He felt the weight of Toomes being lifted off of him. Then he was being grabbed by someone else. Instinctively, he flinched, trying to roll over and drag himself away. The arms weren't rough, tho, and Peter gave out, his muscles relaxing as he felt himself being lifted off the ground. It felt like he was floating, and there was a face staring down at him with a soft, teary-eyed smile.

"Uncle Ben?" He murmured. The face wasn't his uncle's, and he realized that a moment later.

"I've got you, bud. It's gonna be okay."

_ Pops,  _ was the last thing Peter thought before he gave in to the darkness again.  _ He came. _

***

_ (Two weeks later) _

"That's it, kiddo. Take it nice and slow."

Peter leaned forward against his crutch, he leg still wobbly and fragile. Giving out, he fell, landing against Steve's chest.

"I- I can't. I'm sorry."

"Yes, you can, Pete. Try again."

Peter lifted himself back up, biting his lip as his shaky legs threatened to fail on him again. Taking one step forward and using his crutch for support, ended to take another step.

"That's good. See, you're getting there."

His aunt watched from the other side of the room, picking nervously at her fingernails. She managed to muster a reassuring smile for Peter, though, as he turned and gave her a wave.

Steve and Peter practiced for a few more minutes, then he to the boy to try and get some more rest. He helped him back into bed, lifting up his shirt to feel his side.

"How're you doing over here?"

Peter shrugged.

"Doesn't hurt so much anymore. I look like a goblin, though."

"You do  _ not  _ look like a goblin. We've all got scars." He lifted his own shirt. "See that? That one's from the Battle of New York." He gestured to a long wound across his stomach.

"Mine looks uglier."

"You look like nothing but the bravest kid I've ever known, Peter." Steve bent down to kiss his forehead. "Get some sleep."

"I'm not tired," Peter complained, yawning right after. May gave Steve a nod, and he knew she'd stay with him until he fell asleep. Walking down to the kitchen, he found Tony sitting in there, alone, staring down at a cup of coffee that had been out for so long it had grown cold.

"You alright, Tones?"

Steve came up to touch his hand.

"Just… thinking."

"It wasn't your fault."

"It was." Tony looked into Steve's steady blue eyes. "I'm a  _ monster,  _ Steve. I stood there and watched while that man hurt him."

"You are not a monster, Tony. Toomes is. That's why we stuck him in the Raft. He'll never hurt Peter again. You did nothing wrong."

"Tell that to the kid. He's barely  _ looked  _ at me since we got back."

"He's just scared, Tony. He's scared because he still doesn't know how much he's worth to you. That's not your fault. We just need to give him time."

"What if he doesn't want me as his father anymore?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Tony. I swear that kid loves you more than I do. It's going to take time." Steve kissed Tony's cheek. "It's going to be hard, too. But there's a reason Peter gave you a chance to be his dad. And it's definitely not because he thinks you're a monster."

"I just wish I could've stopped him from getting hurt. You don't know how it feels. To stand there and watch, knowing you might've been able to do more."

"I do, Tony," Steve replied, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "I had to watch my best friend fall to his supposed death, and I just needed to reach out a little farther to grab him." He shook his head. "It messed me up, feeling like it was all my fault. But I learned that sometimes hard things happen, no matter how much we try to prevent them."

"He's my  _ kid _ , Steve. Did you even see him? Did you see how badly he was hurt?" Tony sniffed. "And you know what he said to me while we were in there? He said he deserved it."

"Tony. You can't let those thoughts take over you. Peter  _ needs  _ you. We're all a little bit screwed up, in our own ways. The most important thing is that we have each other. It would kill me to lose either of you. It would  _ kill  _ me, Tony." Steve lifted his hand. "I want you to go in there and talk to him."

"Isn't he resting right now?"

"It doesn't matter. You both need to hash it out. Just tell him how you feel. He's just as scared as you are, Tones. You two were both hit hard by this."

"He doesn't want to talk to me."

"I highly doubt that. Stop wallowing in your own self-doubt and go help your son with his."

That seemed to snap Tony out of it a little.

"Fine. I'll go talk to him."

Steve relaxed.

"Thank you."

They walked together back to the room, where Peter was just beginning to doze off.

"I'm going to go make myself some coffee," May said quietly, giving Steve a pat on the shoulder as she quietly exited the room. Tony approached Peter's bed nervously.

"Hey, bud."

He placed his hand on Peter's cheek, and he opened his eyes, peering up at Tony.

"Hey, dad."

"How are you feeling?"

"Sleepy," Peter said, rubbing his eyes. "Missed you."

"I missed you, too."

"Harley says you're drinking again."

Steve shot Tony a glare, and the other man shrugged his shoulders sheepishly.

"I'm sorry. It was just one night, I swear. It won't happen again."

"Harley says you're hurting."

"Oh, yeah? Seems like Harley has a lot to say about me," Tony said lightheartedly.

"He talks a lot."

"Not as much as you, though, I'm sure."

"I like it when Harley talks."

Tony shook his head, smiling.

"You like a lot of things about Harley."

"I like a lot of things about you, too, dad."

Tony sat down hesitantly and Peter never removed his eyes from him, looking at him with those big, brown pools that won Steve over from the moment he first saw him.

"Are you gonna be okay?" Peter asked. Peter worried about other people over himself. It was just his thing.

"I'll be okay, as long as you are, Pete."

"I'll be okay, dad." Peter smiled. "I walked three steps today!"

"That's- that's really good. You're healing up fast."

"You need to heal up, too, dad. In here."

Peter pointed to Tony's chest. He had a point. Steve could easily tell how devastated Tony was by what had happened to Peter. He doubted he would've been able to tay quite so strong had he been in that situation.

"I'm working on it, bud."

"I love you tons, dad." Peter held out his hand and Tony took it, squeezing it gently. He looked up at Steve. "I love you both tons. You guys are the best dads ever."

He yawned again, and Steve could tell how tired he was.

"I'll let you get some sleep, bud," Tony said, standing up, but Peter didn't let go of his hand.

"Could- could you stay? Until I'm asleep?"

Steve could see the glistening in Tony's eyes, but they definitely weren't sad tears.

"Yeah, of course I'll stay."

Steve walked back out into the hallway, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes.

_ It's gonna be okay,  _ he thought to himself.  _ We're together. We're safe. And nobody will try and tear our family apart again. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like... if anyone wants a much longer, more drawn out, more angsty/whumpy version of this story with wayyyyy more recovery content... you may just be in luck bc I'm so inspired to write more of this once I finish my other project (and this obviously). I just love this idea so much and trying to squeeze it all into three parts is definitely not enough for what I'd want to do this with this. So uh yeah stay tuned for that maybe ;)
> 
> As always, ilysm and thank u for reading!! <3


	24. that's not my name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t talk to me like that, Parker. You’re gonna piss me off.”
> 
> “See if I care.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 24 (alt prompt used): identity reveal  
> This is late sorry lol
> 
> written by me :)

Peter Parker was many things. A liar? Sure. A loser? Okay, maybe a little bit. One thing Peter Parker was  _ not,  _ however, was a jerk. That’s why when Flash Thompson came up to him after school, a cocky smile on his face as he “accidentally” stomped down on Peter’s toe and said “Hey, Penis. Mr. Harrington says I should ask you for some help on my chem homework. You’d be willing to help an old pal out, eh?” Peter reluctantly agreed. What was the worst that could happen? He was going to attempt to tutor Flash for a little while, wait until he got bored and sick of naming all the things annoying about Peter, and then make his excuse to leave. At least he’d be able to tell Mr. Harrington he’d tried.

That's how he ended up here, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he trudged along the icy sidewalk, Flash trailing behind him, talking loudly to someone on the phone.

“Yeah, Danny, I know. It sucks. I’m stuck getting tutored by Penis Parker, of all people. I  _ tried  _ to get out of it, trust me, but Mr. H says I’ve gotta keep up my grade to stay on the team. Yeah, of course I’m still going to the party later!”

Peter huffed, zoning out as he continued walking. He was taking Flash to the bookstore a few blocks down from their school, hoping the quiet environment would tone him down at least a bit.

“Hey, Parker! This better be quick. I’ve gotta go to practice in an hour.”

“I thought you were suspended from the team, Flash,” Peter muttered. He stumbled a second later when Flash stuck out his foot to try and trip him.

“Oh, please. They still need me at practice. Those bozos wouldn’t know the first down from the foul line if I wasn’t there.”

Peter rolled his eyes but stayed silent. When they got to the bookstore, his cheeks were pink from the cold and just raw irritation, and he shook his head from side to side, snow spilling off his head. He pushed open the door, holding it open for Flash.

“Where are we? The dork convention?”

“Ha. Funny.”

“Hey, lighten up, Penis,” Flash grinned, nudging his shoulder just a tad too harshly. “But, for the record, if you don’t help me, I’m shoving your face in the cafeteria trash cans.”

_ Subtle. _

They sat down at a table at the edge of the store. There was a small coffee shop connected to it and, luckily, it wasn’t busy.

“Hey, wanna buy me a drink?”

“No, I don’t.” It had been a total of seven minutes and Peter was already on his last nerve. “Let’s just focus. You want to play in the next game, don’t you?”

Flash grumbled, but he didn’t press Peter any further.

“You’re a buzzkill, Parker.”

“Do you have your notebook?” Peter gestured to him, arching his eyebrow when Flash’s face contorted in confusion.

“No. Aren’t you supposed to be the one giving me what I need?”

“I’m not just handing it all to you, Flash. You do realize you actually need to pay attention, right?”

“Or you could just give me the answers to the homework and we’ll call it good.” Flash shot him a smile and Peter groaned, resting his head in his hands and rubbing his eyes.

“C’mon, Penis. You know you wanna get out of here, too.”

“That’s not my name!” Peter slammed his hand down at the table and Flash’s eyes widened at the sudden outburst. “Jesus, Flash, you have to be such a dick all the time? It’s like you get paid to do it or something.”

“Hey, calm down, Parker. I’m just having a little fun.”

“It’s  _ not  _ fun! It’s just stupid! Can you shut up for once?! I took the time out of my day to help you when you have never  _ once  _ been nice to me, and all you do is make me want to stab my goddamn eyes out!”

“Chill out.” Flash was still putting on an apathetic, carefree display for Peter and god, it made him want to strangle him.

“You know what? We’re done. Have fun getting kicked off the team.”

_ Mistake. _

Flash grabbed his arm as Peter shouldered his backpack and walked past.

“Don’t talk to me like that, Parker. You’re gonna piss me off.”

“See if I care.” Peter pulled himself away from Flash, and he seemed caught off-guard by the strength he used to do it. Standing up, he followed Peter out the door.

“You know what, Penis? You’re just scared, I bet. You  _ know  _ I’m better than you and you’re jealous of me for being the football team captain when you dropped out of the tryouts yourself!”

Peter winced at that. He had wanted to play football, but it just wasn’t an option with his other… dilemma.

“You don’t even know anything about me, Flash,” He called over his shoulder, even though he knew he should’ve just kept his head down and kept walking. Egging him on wouldn’t do anything to stop him.

“Oh, yeah? I know you’re the kid who stays in the band room until seven P.M. doing  _ Lego sets _ with that ugly friend of yours.” Flash spoke with a condescending tone, and Peter felt himself balling up his fists. “I know you pass every single test you take without even trying because you’re a complete suck-up to every teacher in the school. I know you pretend to be friends with superheroes because you can’t stand the fact that your own life is completely shitty.” He scoffed at that. “You’re always acting all buddy-buddy with Spider-man, as if you’ve even been within a hundred feet of him. It’s so annoying, Parker. Just stop pretending like you had some sort of bond with Tony Stark and acting all depressed about him dying. You were never in the same  _ room  _ as Tony Stark. Get over it.”

Well,  _ that  _ was just crossing the line.

Peter turned around and shoved Flash.

“Wha- what the hell? You did  _ not  _ just do that.” Flash stumbled backwards, quickly regaining himself because, even though Peter was angry, he still had the sense to know that throwing Flash ten feet in the air would probably cause a scene.

“Shut the  _ fuck _ up, Flash, before I get  _ really  _ pissed off.”

Still, Flash was unfazed. In fact, he threw his head back in laughter.

“Oh, boy, that’s hilarious! Penis Parker wants to fight!” He clutched his stomach, bending over. “What- what are you gonna do, Parker-” He wheezed out, having to stop between bouts of laughter. “-put on some safety goggles and out- _ nerd  _ me? Good luck with that!”

_ Walk away, Peter. Just walk away. _

The way he saw it, he had two options. He could either pummel Flash right here and now (and the red behind his vision was dutifully encouraging him to do so), or he could go home and fume alone in his room until he punched a hole in his wall then broke down sobbing right after. The second option would be smarter, but the first seemed a thousand times more satisfying.

He didn’t get much time to consider it before Flash was grabbed by someone and dragged into the alleyway beside them, screaming.

“Flash!”

Yeah, he hated the guy, but it always seemed to be Peter’s instinct to run after people in trouble, no matter how much he also wanted to kill them.

When Peter turned the corner, Flash was gone.

He stood, looking around, ready to jump at whatever danger exposed itself to him. Reaching into his backpack, he pulled out his web shooters, putting them on as quickly as he could. The alley looked undisturbed, the people behind him walking up and down the street, busy with their own lives and unaware of the kid who just got snatched up by an unknown figure. Suddenly, he heard a voice.

“Let go of me, stupid!” 

“Not until we catch your little friend.”

“Hey, I’m not scared of you! Give Flash back!” Peter shouted, craning his neck to see where the voice had been coming from. He felt a tingle on the back of his neck and he whipped around, just barely dodging an object that went whistling past his head. Turning, he saw a red, needle pointed dart clatter onto the ground.

It was a distraction, which he realized a second too late as a hand came flying out of nowhere, hitting him across the face so hard he hit his head against the wall and everything turned to black.

***

When Peter woke up, he had a pounding headache and tasted metallic blood on his teeth. Licking his lips, he lifted himself up off the ground, only to find he had been cuffed to a table. They were normal handcuffs, and he could break through them with very little effort, but he didn’t when he saw Flash a couple feet away from him, staring him down.

“Great job, Parker. Now we’re both stuck here.”

“How… is any of this my fault?”

He blinked, trying to get adjusted to the harsh light of the room. It was small, square, and grey, the only furniture in it being the table they were both restrained to. Peter noticed it was bolted to the ground.

“If you hadn’t gotten all wimpy about having to tutor me and run out, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“You don’t know that.”

Flash rolled his eyes.

“Whatever.”

They sat in silence for a minute before Peter opened his mouth again, to say something he probably shouldn’t.

“Maybe if you actually tried to do well in school, you wouldn’t have had to get tutored by me in the first place.”

“Shut up, Parker.”

Peter jumped, startled when a woman walked into the room, twirling a phone between her fingers.

“Ah, Peter Parker. You’re awake.” She stretched her lips into a wide, toothy grin. “Glad you could join us.”

“Sorry, who are you, again?”

“I’m an associate of Doctor Octavius. It was brought to our attention that you, my dear boy, build weapons for Spider-man.”

Flash stared between them, confused.

“Huh?”

“I wouldn’t say weapons.”

She sighed, placing the phone down on the table.

“Nevertheless, you are of value to him. It is Octavius’s one and only desire to… wipe out Spider-man. Destroy him. End him for good.”

Peter knew this. He’d run into Doc Oc and his filthy band of criminals, who he so dubiously called the Sinister Six, a number of times. He didn’t like dealing with them, but they had never really gotten close to succeeding. So far, Peter had gotten three of them thrown in jail. The others and Oc were another story.

“I see. And where exactly do I come in?”

Flash seemed appalled by Peter’s lack of fear. Truthfully, Peter was nervous. He just knew how to hide it.

“Well, I’ve sent out a message to the public, by way of the Daily Bugle.”

“Ah, good ol’ Jameson.”

“I told him to let our little spider friend know that we have one of his. There’s a plan in place which you cannot know about, but it involves setting a trap for him. He won’t be able to  _ resist  _ coming to save an innocent person. Especially not one like you, Peter.”

That hurt, because it was true. If it had been someone else, Peter would have run straight in to rescue them, even if he was aware it was a trap. 

“And what about Flash over here?”

She waved her hand.

“Mere bait to get to you.”

“Hey!”

“I suggest you two get comfy. And don’t bother trying to escape; not even Spiderman could get you out of here.”

She left the room swiftly, closing the door behind her.

“Are we gonna die?”

“No, we are not going to die.” Peter sighed.

“Where are we?”

“I assume we’re in Oc’s underground lab. Beneath Long Island.”

“Wait, how do you know that?”

“I- er- saw it on the news.”

Flash groaned. Peter could easily get out of the cuffs and the room, he just didn’t know how far he would be able to make it to get out of the lab and back up to the surface. There was probably a whole host of thugs and criminals down here. Peter strained his ears, picking up the sound of laughter.

“Well, Spider-man will come save us soon.”

“Doubtful.”

“You’re such a pessimist, Penis.”

“I’m just saying. Why would he walk straight into a trap like that? It’d be stupid.”

“Oh, right… because you’re his friend and all that.” Flash said it sarcastically, with a bitter tone that Peter took as still not believing it. He sighed, fiddling with the cuffs. He  _ could  _ out himself to Flash and try to escape with him, but it was risky. He didn’t have anything except his web shooters.

_ Wow, they really didn’t pat us down as well as they should’ve. _

He wasn’t complaining, though. 

“Hopefully he comes soon. Hey, it’d be pretty cool to get saved by Spider-man, actually.”

“Dude, what is your deal with Spider-man?”

Flash shrugged.

“I just think he’s totally awesome. He saves the city like, every day. I mean, remember that one time he took down Electro by overpowering him using the city grid? That was completely badass!”

Peter remembered that day. He had dealt with the smell of singed rubber in his hair for almost a week afterwards.

“And he’s so much better than those other Avengers, in my opinion. They’re all cool, but seriously, Spider-man just does things differently. And he's hilariously funny.”

“You think he’s funny?” Peter smirked at that one. He didn’t get that compliment very often.

“Obviously.”

Flash continued to rant about how cool Spider-man was, but Peter wasn’t really listening anymore. He was too busy worrying about escaping. He knew that nobody would expect Spider-man to be  _ inside  _ the building already. The element of surprise was on his side. He could wait it out but, when Spider-man didn’t show, Oc and his cronies would probably get suspicious, or worse, angry, and take it out on Peter and Flash. Overall, he’d have a much better chance of slipping out alone, undetected. But he couldn’t just leave Flash here. For all the ways Peter disliked Flash for being his constant tormentor, leaving him here to die was just plain wrong. When he was in a situation like this, his first thought would’ve been to use Karen to call someone. Usually, it would’ve been Tony. But he didn't have Karen now, or Tony. He was on his own.

Looking up, he realized there was a vent above him. It wasn’t very big, but he figured he and Flash could manage to squeeze through it. It had to end up outside somewhere.

“Flash, think you can fit through that?”

Peter pointed upward.

“Sure. But, in case you didn’t notice, we’re kind of stuck to a table right now.”

Peter looked down at the cuffs, and Flash laughed.

“You’re slower than I took you for, Penis.”

He went quiet when Peter snapped the cuffs into two pieces easily.

“Did you just-”

Wordlessly, Peter bent over and pulled off Flash’s cuffs, too.

“What the hell-”

“Come on. We have to move fast, or else they’re gonna find us.”

“I don’t-”

“Come  _ on, _ Flash. Get off your sorry ass and let’s get out of here.”

As Flash jumped up onto the table and pulled down the vent cover, he eyed Peter.

“How much are you benching, Parker?”

“Flash, just  _ go _ !”

Too late.

“Well, well, well, what do you two think you’re doing?”

The women stood before them, this time accompanied by two larger men.

“Escaping!” Flash announced, and Peter slapped his hand against his own face.

“Funny… I don’t think so. Harper?”

One of the men grabbed Peter, yanking him down from the table roughly. The other came up and wrapped an arm around Flash, holding him tight.

“Which one of you is the strongman?” The woman asked, bending down to pick up the broken cuffs. Flash pointed at Peter.

“Seriously?” He muttered indignantly.

“Surprising. That’s not what I would’ve expected.”

“Me either,” Flash agreed. “Hey, lady, can we get out of here soon? I’ve got practice and a party later-”

“God, Flash,  _ shut up _ !”

“My, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, hm?” The lady advanced towards Peter. “Well, since our spider friend has yet to make an appearance, why don’t we introduce you to the others? I’m sure Oc would  _ love  _ being in the company of a spunky pair like you two.”

“Thanks, but I’m good!”

Peter kicked outward and pulled himself forward at the same time, flipping over the man who had grabbed him and hitting him in the face. He sprinted to Flash, pulling the guy off of him and doing the same before barreling past the woman, who looked both surprised and intrigued. Peter slammed through the door and out into the hallways, ducking when he heard a gunshot. Flash followed behind him, looking panicked.

“She just shot at you! And you just- dodged it?! I-”

“No time! Let’s go!”

Pete ran through the dimly lit, musty hallway, only looking back once or twice to make sure Flash was still following him. When the hairs on the back of his neck stood up he pushed Flash against the wall a millisecond before another bullet came whizzing past, so close Peter could feel the heat of it behind his head. He kept running, dragging Flash with him.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Another figure stepped out of the shadows, brandishing two long swords.

“Oh, shit-” Flash started, but he was cut off when Peter webbed both the man’s hands to the wall. He shouted angrily and Peter ducked under his arms, noticing something.

“What now, Parker?!” Flash shouted. Peter came running back out a second later, his backpack slung over his shoulders. He hoped everything was still in it, including his phone, but for now they had to get out.

“Another time, maybe!” He shouted over his back at the man, who was still struggling to break free of the webbing. They burst into a stairwell.

“Climb!” He yelled, pushing Flash in front of him. He looked like he was going to say something. “Flash!”

The other boy shook his head and fled, climbing up the flights of stairs as fast as he could. Peter just hoped there weren’t more bad guys waiting for them at the top. The woman burst into the room, firing off another shot that Peter just barely dodged.

“It makes so much more sense now!” She exclaimed. “Why get someone to make weapons for Spider-man, when you can just  _ be  _ Spider-man and do it yourself! You’re a good one, Peter Parker.”

Peter shot a web at her hand, and it became stuck to the wall. She held up her other hand, the one with the gun in it, and pointed it directly at Peter. He tried to step back but stumbled, falling against the railing.

“Octavius would’ve liked to do this himself, but it’s much more simple my way,” she sneered. “Goodbye, Spider-”

“Hey, lady!”

Something dropped from higher up the stairwell and hit the woman directly on the head. She collapsed promptly, the weight that had hit her coming to a crash beside her. Peter looked up to see Flash about four stories above him.

“Thanks!” He called, before running up to meet with him.

“I found our way out, but you’re not gonna like it.”

Flash opened the door and Peter realized they were standing on a large balcony, the city streets below them.

“Damn. Not his creepy, underground basement, then.”

They seemed to be somewhere on the edge of Queens. Peter could see his neighborhood in the distance. They were only about ten stories up, but the closet building to them was a long shot. Peter wasn’t sure if he’d be able to make it.

While he was considering it, Flash was busy watching the door.

“Uh, we’ve got a problem!”

The two men from before came bursting out, and they did not look happy. One of them was holding a large club, and he advanced towards Flash quickly. Peter reached his hand out, webbing the guy’s hand and yanking him so hard he fell forward, yelping in pain. The other one didn’t look so sure of himself anymore, and Peter took the opportunity to to run up and kick him in the face, webbing him to the ground.

“Get on my back!”

“What?” Flash looked confused. “I’m not just climbing onto your back, Parker!”

“Just do it!”

Peter grabbed Flash and pulled him forward, and he reluctantly locked his arms around Peter’s shoulders. He was heavy but, as long as they both held on tight, they would make it. Peter took a deep breath.

_ Flash Thomspon, please don’t be the reason I fall to my death, _ he silently prayed. Running forward, he swung himself over the edge of the railing and jumped.

The wind whistled through his ears and he could hear Flash screaming. As he clicked the button on his web shooters and shot straight towards the building next to them, he closed his eyes, doing his best to keep Flash from slipping off his back. When he felt the tension spring in the webbing and he wasn’t free-falling anymore, he opened them again, realizing he had made it. Flash was still screaming, but Peter didn’t really care.

They landed on the ground next to the building, in a place where there weren’t many bystanders. The drop was rough as Peter’s legs gave out because of the unaccounted for extra weight and he rolled on the ground, heaving as he came to a stop. He sat up, feeling dizzy. Flash was beside him, groaning.

“Ugh,” he muttered, pulling himself up. Peter sat against the building, catching his breath. A few people shot them weird glances, but he wasn’t really paying attention.

“You good?” He asked Flash, who sat up beside him, pressing his hand to his head.

“Yeah, I’m fine… What the hell was that, though? You’re Spider-man?  _ You _ ? The kid who could barely do one sit-up in P.E. last week?”

“I was pretending. And yeah. I am.” Peter pressed his head against the wall, before remembering his backpack. Reaching, he pulled out his beat-up cell phone. “Thank god.”

“What, you were worried about your  _ phone  _ this whole time?”

“Yeah, I was. If someone bad gains access to all my contacts, they know exactly who to kill or kidnap to get to me.”

“Oh… yeah, that makes sense.”

“Go home, Flash.”

“You expect me to just go home after almost dying and then finding out the lamest kid at my school is my favorite superhero? No way.”

“What do you care? All you ever want to do is call me “Penis Parker” and smash my head into water fountains. Quite a way to treat Spider-man, isn’t it?”

Sure, he was being a little rude. But he honestly found it hard to give a shit. His head was hurting and Flash was still here, nagging him.

“I didn’t know you were Spider-man.”

“It’s still a shitty way to treat anyone. Like I said, you know nothing about me.”

Flash looked at the ground.

“Yeah. I know. I’m sorry.”

Peter scoffed.

“Are you seriously only apologizing to me now that you know who I am? Or maybe it’s because I just saved your shitty self and you want to seem like a good person.” He stood up, grabbing his backpack and turning around. “I assume you’ll find your own way home.”

“No, wait, Peter!” Flash stood, too, running after him. “Look, I know I can;t really apologize for that. It’s not fair. I guess I just wanted to say that you… made me realize that I shouldn’t assume things about people. And that I shouldn’t be such a jerk.”

Peter slowed down a little, lowering his voice.

“Everyone has their own mask, Flash. Everyone’s going through something you don’t know about. You don’t have to make their lives any harder.”

“Yeah… I’m starting to get that now. Like you. You’re only ever nice to anyone, even me, as much as I call you names. But… I know you’re also going through stuff with your family. And the whole Spider-man thing, obviously. So… it wasn’t right for me to be a dick to you.”

Peter thought about it, dragging his feet across the ground as he walked. It seemed to him like revealing his identity to Flash had been a real eye-opener for him. Maybe it wasn’t all bad that had come out of it. Maybe Flash would actually make an effort to get better. He didn’t know. It wasn’t really up to him.

“Well, I’m glad you said that, I guess. Just don’t tell anyone. I mean it.”

“I won’t. I swear it.”

“You should probably go get ready for that party.”

“Actually… I think I’m gonna skip the party.”

“Huh?”

Flash nodded. 

“Gotta do some studying.”

“You- you’re gonna study?!” Peter couldn’t believe his ears.

“Yeah. Gotta try hard if I want to stay on the team. Taking some advice from Spider-man.”

“Oh… well, good luck with that, then.”

“Thanks for saving my life.”

Peter shrugged.

“Thanks for saving mine, too. Nice trick back there.”

Flash grinned.

“Yeah. She was annoying.”

Peter turned around, turning down the street to his house. He’d have to come back later for the criminals, but right now, he was exhausted.

_ I’ll figure that one out tomorrow. _

“See you, Flash.”

“See you around… Peter.”

He didn;t look back, but Peter knew Flash was still standing there, something between a smile and a frown on his face as he contemplated the fact that  _ Peter _ was  _ Spider-man.  _ And it wasn’t so bad, Peter thought. Maybe he wouldn’t need to look over his shoulder, waiting for Flash to find an excuse to bother him, quite so much anymore. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a few days left!!
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


	25. is something burning?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You can’t go running into a fire.”
> 
> “Spider-man can.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 25: fire
> 
> The og prompt was not interesting at all so we made one up lol
> 
> written by M :)

“Come on, Harley, give it back.” The small, chubby faced kid glared at his older brother. 

“What, this?” The bigger kid swung the toy soldier from his finger, taunting him. 

“Yes! Give it back.” 

“Hey, what did I tell you two about fighting?”

“Harley took my—”

He shoves it into the kid's hands, clapping his mouth shut, “We’re not fighting.”

“Hm. that’s not what I heard.”

The boy crosses his arms, “We’re just playing.”

“Okay, keep it down. Steve and I are trying to watch a movie.”

He turns back to the littler boy, “You’re such a tattle.”

“And you’re a jerk.”

He sticks his tongue out at him. 

“Language!”

…

_ Ring! _

The bell sounds the end of class and Peter hurries to put his books away. Outside the classroom he can hear Flash’s voice. It makes him groan. 

_ Not today. _

Peter shoulders his backpack and ducks his head in the hopes he can sneak out of there unnoticed. 

“Hey, look! It’s Penis Parker.”

He cringes. The whole hall heard Flash’s exclamation. 

He feels a hard pat on the back, “What’s the rush, man? It’s not like you have a life to get to.”

Flash’s goonies laugh at the mediocre joke. 

Peter keeps his mouth sealed becauseanything he says is sure to make this worse. 

“So, I have a favor.”

When silence meets his prompt he continues. 

“I have homework due tomorrow that I haven’t done and I heard you’re a math nerd so I thought, who better to do it for me?”

The smile on his face held no hint of warmth. 

Peter hunched his shoulders, wishing he could be in any other place, any other situation.

“Whadd'ya say, Penis?”

Flash has a firm grip on his arm, not allowing Peter to even try and step away. 

“Hey, hey. That’s enough, Flash.”

Harley comes around the corner, nudging Flash away from Peter. 

“Oh, saved by the brother. Or the adopted one. Wait, which one of you is adopted?” He sneers. 

Harley gives him the finger, “How about you fuck off. Go with whatever fragile masculinity you have left.”

The smirk is wiped off his face, “That- I’m not—”

“The fact that you’re even trying to argue proves my point.”

Flash’s face turns red but he stomps off, steam practically streaming from his ears. 

“You didn’t have to do that.” Peter mutters. 

“I wouldn’t have to if you’d stand up to him.” Harley doesn’t even try to sugarcoat his words, knowing to get straight to the point with Peter. 

“It’s not worth the fight.”

“But getting kicked around like a soccer ball is?"

“Just drop it.” He looks away, eager to get off the campus. 

Harley matches his steps as they leave the school, “I’m not saying you have to fight him, just don’t let him walk all over you.”

“I said, drop it.”

This time he shuts his mouth, but only for a moment. 

“So, I heard a rumor.”

Peter knew he would regret asking but he did anyway, “What rumor?”

“About you and MJ.”

His face instantly turns pink, “What? I- er, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You should see your expression right now. How come I’ve never heard about this before? I mean, I get it, she’s real beautiful, but that angst and brutal honesty, not really my type. For you, I could see it.”

Peter could feel his face heating, “She’s not- we’re not—”

“So what’s the game plan? Going to ask her out? Maybe hangout more? Oh, have you thought about—”

“Harley!”

“Yeah, I’m going too fast. What about a date?”

He just looks at the taller boy, bewildered. 

Harley trudges on, “What about pick up lines? You’ve got to have something good or maybe geared toward her interests. We could brainstorm some.”

“Wait, stop.”

“Look, I know you don’t like talking about it but—”

Something makes Peter halt, “No, shut up. do you smell that?”

Harley looks around, “No? Oh, is it the Peter tingle?”

“No- that’s not- I smell something. Like something’s burning.”

Harley glances to the street ahead, “There!”

He points to the sky where smoke is billowing out of a tall building. It’s a few blocks away but already the smell was creeping its way towards them. 

They exchange eye contact before breaking out in a run down the sidewalk. Now they could hear screams and sirens blaring, children crying while soot covered adults attempted to console them. 

Peter runs up to the closest policeman, “What happened?”

The man gives Peter a stern look, “Son, you shouldn’t be here.”

Harley cuts in, “We have family in the area, we need to know what happened.”

The policeman’s eyes soften, believing Harley’s lie, “Some sort of explosion in the upper floors. The cause is unknown. We believe it was a gas leak.”

Peter’s already sprinting to the closest alley. 

“What’re you doing?” Harley calls but Peter’s already yanking off his shirt. 

“Grab the suit out of my backpack.”

“You can’t go running into a fire.”

“Spider-man can.”

Harley glares at him, “Even Spider-man’s not fire repellent.”

“Dad added new gadgets and Karen will make sure I don’t die of smoke inhalation.”

At the mention of the AI, the suit’s mask flickers to life. 

Peter pulls the suit on, not caring about Harley glowering at him, “Call Tony first, he can handle this better.”

“There’s not enough time.” Peter stuffs his head in his mask, “Karen, scan the area.”

_ “Open flames starting on the 10th floor and heavy debris throughout the bottom floors. Multiple heat signatures detected inside.” _

“See, Harley? People will die if I don’t get in there.”

Harley opens his mouth, searching for an excuse, for any reason to hold his little brother back. But when Peter makes eye contact, he knows he’s come up with nothing.

“You can stop a bully at school, but you can’t fight all my battles.” 

“Peter…”

He knew it killed him, seeing his only sibling throwing himself in danger like this, but Peter had to, Harley knew that.

“Stay back, help injured. Call Tony if things get out of hand.”

And just like that, he’s off, swinging towards the flaming building.

Peter pushed down his guilt to focus on the task at hand. Landing on the outside of the 10th floor, he picked up the heat radiating from it. 

“Karen, any weak points?”

_ “The window to your left is fragile and can be broken easily. In this floor alone, I detect two life forms. You need to hurry, due to the amount of smoke and density, they do not have much time.” _

Wordlessly, he knocked in the glass. It shattered easily under the force, small pieces scattering everywhere. Taking a deep breath, Peter jumped inside. 

No fire was in the room directly but smoke billowed out from underneath the door, covering every inch with soot. 

Peter covered his mouth, ducking low beneath the flames. He made it to the door and shoved it open. 

Crackling of wood and the crash of something makes someone scream on the other side. 

“Hello?” Peter calls through the chaos. 

A small whimper greets him. Dodging fallen roof, he makes it to where he can see a little girl curled on the floor. 

“Hey? Can you hear me?”

She looks up. T ears streak her face, ash clinging to the streaks, leaving dark marks. 

“My mommy won’t get up.”

A woman lay limp beside the girl, red and black matting her head. Peter’s stomach dropped but he swallowed and approached the girl. 

“What’s your name?”

She wiped her nose, smearing ash, “Izzy.”

“Okay Izzy, I’m here to help. Can I help your mommy.”

She tentatively nods and scoots away from her, coughing into her arm. 

“Karen, assess injuries.”

_ “Clear head trauma and faint pulse. She’s alive.” _

Peter breathes out a sigh of relief but it’s too soon. A chunk of debris comes falling out of the ceiling. He grabs the mom’s body and flips out of the way just in time for it to hit the floor and explode in dust and ash. 

The little girl screams but is otherwise unharmed. 

“Listen to me, Izzy. You need to follow me, I’m going to get you out of here.”

She nods, coughing harder. 

Peter slings the mom over his shoulder and starts walking out of the room. 

The smoke was denser now, it made his chest hurt and his eyes water but he ignored it as they found the closest stairwell. However, it’s blocked by debris. 

Shooting a line of web, he yanks it hard and the door flies open. 

Hurrying down the steps, Peter checks to make sure the girl is trailing. She wobbles alongside him, her coughs relentless now. 

He was getting dizzy now, and it felt like he was looking through a tunnel. His mouth was thick with saliva and his chest gave a painful twinge. 

Grabbing the girl's hand, they sprinted down the steps. Cracking noises came from behind them, they just missed part of the stairwell caving in yet it threw Peter off balance. He hit the railing and the mom fell from his grasp. 

She slid the last floor down, like a fallen rag doll. 

Peter stumbled towards her, barely able to see through the sheen of smoke. 

“I can’t see!”

The little girl calls out, panic in her words. 

He goes to her and picks her up, “We’re almost out.”

_ Is my leg hurting or is it just delirium? _

Peter decides to run her out of the building first. He gets down the last few stairs and finds the door. He stumbles, barely able to keep his feet below him. After an eternity of smoke, they hit fresh air. 

Firefighters rush to him. 

“What the—”

“The mother.” Peter slurs, pointing to the open door, “The mother’s still inside.”

A firefighter takes the girl from his hands. 

“Get her.”

His eyes roll to the back of his head and the last thing he sees before passing out is a group of firefighters running into the building. 

…

“You absolute dumbass.”

“Harley.”

“Do you realize the heart attack you gave me?” He paces back and forth. 

“Harley.” Peter’s voice is barely more than a whisper, still sore from the smoke. 

“Seeing you stumble out, covered in ash. You looked like a zombie.”

“Harley!” Peter barely manages to raise his tone. 

“What?” He scowls. 

“I’m fine.”

“You ran into a flaming building, raining with debris. You are not fine.”

Peter crosses his arms, “I’m alive.”

Harley stops. 

“Hey, I appreciate you looking out for me, but this is my job, I save people.”

“Don’t pull the heroic crap on me.”

Peter laughs. 

“What’s so funny?”

“You sound like a crazed mother.”

Harley glares at him, “I do not.”

“You do, though.”

“Ugh, I need a coffee.”

He stomps out the door but before he leaves he looks back, “Just, don’t go running into flaming buildings with no backup, okay?”

Peter nods, “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's late again, ill see if I can get day 36 up today too but if not it'll be first thing tomorrow :)
> 
> Thank u so much for reading!


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But sometimes… I don’t feel so strong. And it makes it harder for me to sleep at night, or remember to take care of myself. Because, well, I guess sometimes, I feel like if I can’t be strong, why do I deserve to try?” Peter looked up at Tony. “Is that how it feels for you, too?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 26: recovery  
> in which Tony is a little bit of a dumbass but Peter is there to help him out
> 
> written by me :)

Tony was hitting the punching bag over and over again, slamming into it from all angles, letting each pulse of soreness and pain crying out in his knuckles only push him to hit the bag harder. He could hear the clink of the chain releasing tension as he aimed his punches upward, the bag swaying back and forth in a rhythmic motion that kept Tony bouncing around on the balls of his feet, using his body as momentum.

“You gonna quit it anytime soon, Stark, or do I have to drag you away from that bag myself?”

“While I wouldn’t necessarily object to that, Cap,” Tony said, his eyes still focused on the bag in front of him, “I’m good here.”

“It’s been three hours and you still haven’t taken a break.”

“What are you, my mom?”

Steve shook his head, sighing.

“No, but I thought maybe you should know Peter’s been here waiting for you for an hour.”

“Peter? What’s he doing here?” Tony paused for a moment to glance at Steve. “He wasn’t supposed to be coming until Tuesday.”

Steve raised his eyebrow.

“It  _ is  _ Tuesday.”

“Really? I hadn’t even noticed.”

“Maybe I should just tell him to go home, because it’s obvious you need to get your feet back on the ground.”

“I do not.”

Tony unrolled the wraps around his arms, exposing his knuckles, which were black and blue and dotted with blood. Steve looked at Tony’s hands with critical eyes, but he kept his mouth shut.

“Tell him I’ll be up in ten.”

Steve just gave him a curt nod.

“And maybe don’t scare him off with your intimidating smolder, eh?” Tony laughed, but Steve was already gone.

_ Okay, party pooper. _

Tony rinsed himself off and threw on a t-shirt and jeans, wrapping a clean, white bandage around his knuckles before walking up to the kitchen. He felt a little bit lightheaded, but has assumed it was from the exertion he had put himself through for the first few hours of the morning. When he walked into the huge room, he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Peter standing there, using hand movements and silly facial expressions to tell an animated story to Wanda, who was listening in earnest.

“Oh, hi, Mr. Stark!” He exclaimed when he saw Tony, bouncing on his feet. “I was just telling Ms. Maximoff-”

“Wanda, dear,” she corrected him gently, a small smile playing on her lips. Peter nodded.

“Right, Sorry. I was just telling Wanda about the time you and I fought that creepy monster guy in New York! Remember, when I was on my field trip?”

“Yeah, bud, I remember.”

“Yeah, and she told me about fighting Ultron. And how she totally ripped out his heart which is, like, super badass!”

“Language, Pete,” Tony chided, and Wanda shook her head, giggling softly. Tony knew that Ultron was a very personal fight for Wanda, so sharing her experience with Peter told him she really liked him. Which wasn’t surprising. Everybody liked Peter.

“Sorry. So, anyways, what are we working on today, Mr. Stark?” Peter rocked back and forth on his heels, grinning as Tony came closer. Mentally, he slapped himself for not remembering to set up the lab for the project he wanted to show Peter. He had told himself he was going to do it last night, but had gotten caught up developing more nanotech for his armor.

“Shoot, kid, I’m sorry. I totally forgot to put out the stuff for our project.”

“That’s okay,” Peter said instantly.

“Um… how about you hang out for a bit longer up here and I’ll go clean up down there a little? I’ll have FRIDAY tell you when to come down.” He felt bad for making Peter wait any longer for him, but he didn’t really want him to see the absolute disaster the lab had become.

Running downstairs, he pressed the code to open the door to his lab.

“Dum-E, U, I need you both on cleanup duty, got it?” He said, talking to his robotic arms, who instantly activated and began picking up metal parts on the floor and dumping them onto the table.

“Mr. Stark, Captain Rogers would like me to alert you that your dinner from last night is still in the fridge.”

Tony facepalmed. He had meant to eat the food Steve had left out for him, but he had never gotten around to that, either.

“He would also like me to tell you he didn’t see you eat breakfast this morning.”

“Tell him I did, Fri. And also, tell him to ease up off my ass a little bit.”

“I have told him,” FRIDAY affirmed.

Tony continued to pick up tools and papers off the floor, trying to arrange them on the tables as neatly as possible, but not trying to take forever and force Peter to continue waiting around for him to be done.

When he was satisfied with the conditions of his lab, he poured himself a cup of coffee (his third today, fourth perhaps), and looked up at the ceiling.

“FRIDAY, can you tell Pete he can come down now?”

Tony took a sip of his bitter coffee, wrinkling his nose at the taste, before sitting down and pulling up the file on Peter’s projects, flipping through them just as the boy walked into the room.

“Hey, bud. I was just going through your stuff really quick.”

“Oh, great! What do you think of my ideas? Some of them are kinda bad, to be honest, but I’m not as good at coming up with ideas as you-”

“Hey, from what I’ve seen, I’m already amazed by them.”

Peter blushed a little bit, looking down.

“Thanks, Mr. Stark.”

“So I wanted to see if you had anything specific you’d like to work on. Instead of me telling you what to do all the time.”

It was sort of a lie. Peter liked it when Tony gave him a project to work on, and he knew that, but last night the man had been so scatterbrained he hadn’t even thought about pulling up the specs for something Peter could develop. He felt a twinge of guilt at that.

“Oh, okay!”

Lucky for Tony, it appeared nothing was going to faze Peter today. He silently thanked whatever gods were up there for giving him such an easygoing kid. Peter set his backpack down by his usual table, which Tony had placed a lot of his stuff on. He winced at that again, but Peter barely took notice of it.

“I had this idea for a new reconnaissance drone,” he said. “Smaller and less noticeable, and it could be remotely controlled by my voice commands so I could follow anyone I need to and track where they go. You know?”

Tony nodded.

“That can be arranged. Wanna pull up the designs?”

Peter smiled, walking to stand by Tony and flip through the holographic displays before pulling up the one he needed. Tony examined it.

“This looks really good, kiddo. It looks phenomenal, actually. You did this all yourself?”

“Yeah. Well, with some input from my friend Ned.”

Tony rubbed his forehead. He knew what the designs were and he knew he could put them together easily, but for some reason the numbers on the page were just blurring in and out and he couldn’t really make sense of them.

When was the last time he had taken a sip of water? He couldn’t remember.

“Mr. Stark?”

Tony blinked, realizing he had zoned out for a while and Peter was staring at him, those goddamn brown doe eyes filled with concern.

“Sorry. I was just thinking.”

“Oh. Okay.” Peter leaned back over the display. “Happens to me, too. One time during my calculus test, I spaced out thinking about how to solve the problem and the next thing I knew, I only had two minutes left to finish.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Tony laughed lightheartedly.

“By the way, Mr. Stark, are your hands okay?”

_ Oh.  _ Tony had forgotten about that. Looking down, he realized the blood from his knuckles had begun to create a white stain that soaked all the way through the bandages.

“Er, yeah. I’m fine.” He faced his palms up, suddenly anxious. “Had a rough training session this morning. You know how it gets.” He tried to ignore Peter’s eyes, which were still gazing at him, as if he could read Tony’s mind.

_ Are spiders telepathic? I sure hope they aren’t. _

“You look tired. Maybe we should do this a different day.”

Oh, boy. Tony’s mentee was  _ not  _ the one trying to take care of  _ him  _ right now. That was just backwards. He laughed again, ignoring the pounding in his head.

“No, I’m good, Pete. I promise.”

Peter turned away and Tony relaxed when he wasn’t eyeing him anymore, but Peter still didn’t look entirely convinced.

“I’m gonna make another cup of coffee. You want some?”

Peter wrinkled his nose.

“I’m gonna take that as a no.”

Tony busied himself with making another cup even though he knew he should probably stop, at least until the buzzing in his head faded. Just then, Steve walked into the room. Peter looked up, a little nervous by the way Steve’s face was giving off an expression somewhere between anger and worry.

“Hey, Tony, can I talk to you privately for a second?”

“Why? Anything you have to say, I’m sure Spider-boy can hear it.”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows.

“You know what? Because you can’t seem to take me seriously, fine.”

“I can go-” Peter started, but Steve cut him off.

“No. You’re fine here, kid. Maybe you’ll get to him more than I can.”

A confused Peter sat down tentatively, folding his hands in his lap and trying to look anywhere  _ but  _ at Steve.

“When was the last time you ate, Tony?”

He shrugged.

“I ate breakfast this morning,” he lied.

“Are you sure about that? Because FRIDAY told me that the only time she’s seen you in the kitchen today was when you went to get Peter.”

“I have food in here, Captain Salty,” Tony retorted, rolling his eyes. “Why do you feel a need to be on my case twenty-four hours a day?”

“Because I care,” Steve answered automatically. “And because you’re one of the leaders of this team. Everyone looks up to you.  _ Peter  _ looks up to you. You need to set a better example by taking care of yourself.”

“And I  _ am _ !” Tony answered, raising his voice slightly. Behind the two men, Peter was only growing more and more uncomfortable, tapping his feet against the ground. “Jesus, Steve! Spying on me and trying to invade my privacy is a pretty shitty way of showing me that you care!”

“I- I think I should go-” Peter stuttered out, raising his hand, but he was ignored by Tony and Steve, who were now glaring at each other threateningly.

“I’m not invading your privacy, Tony! You’re really getting mad at me because I’m trying to help you out?! You haven’t been eating right for at least a week and we’ve  _ all  _ noticed. You’ve been spending hours on end in the training room overextending yourself and the other time during your day, you’re cooped up in this lab! We don’t even see you anymore!”

Tony was feeling lightheaded, but the buzz from all the coffee he had in his system was giving him a rush of adrenaline. He didn’t even bother to notice that his hand was gripping the counter so hard his fingers were going numb, or the fact that his legs felt shaky and unstable.

“I’m not your pity project, Rogers. Stop acting like I am. You can’t just strut around everywhere acting like you can ‘fix people’. Not everyone needs to be fixed. We aren’t all like you.”

“Like me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Steve was heating up now, too.

“Guys, please don’t-”

“ _ You  _ got a chance to live the pretty life. You got to get out of whatever sinkhole you were in and become something better. You became some sort of pride symbol for the country, swaggering around, being used as a propaganda device until you  _ finally  _ got your hero moment. Just because you needed fixing, Steve, doesn’t mean the rest of us do.”

“That’s not what I’m implying at all and you know it. You’re being incredibly immature, Tony.” Steve scoffed. “And all this coming from a guy who could never steer clear of his dad’s abusive shadow.”

“You better shut your mouth, Rogers,” Tony said quietly.

“Mr. Stark-”

“I’m not the one who needs a reality check here, Tony,” Steve spat.

“Mr. Stark!”

Tony felt his knees buckle and he hit his head against the counter. Steve reached forward to catch him and, as everything turned black, the last thing Tony saw was Peter running forward, his eyes wide and stricken with fear as Tony passed out right in front of him.

***

When Tony came to, he was laying in an unfamiliar bed, the sound of constant, faint beeping next to him. He felt drowsy still, and he tried to sit up, shaking his head.

“Tony, don’t.”

“Oh. It’s you.”

Steve leaned against the doorframe of the small room, his arms crossed.

“Your sleep deprivation and malnutrition caught up to you.”

“Thanks for rubbing it in.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“Listen, I know I shouldn’t have said what I did. About your dad. I was angry and I took it too far. I’m not sorry for telling you that you need to take care of yourself more, though. You scared me. You put Peter in tears. Wanda’s downstairs trying to comfort him but he’s pretty shaken up.”

Tony definitely felt guilty at that one. Peter was scared because of him.

“Can I talk to him?” he asked, disregarding Steve's other comments. The bigger man gave up trying to get through to Tony, nodding.

“I’ll send him up.”

A few minutes later, Peter burst into the room, looking distraught.

“Mr. Stark! Thank god you’re okay. I was so worried-”

“Yeah, I know, kid.”

Peter sat down beside Tony.

“What happened? Steve told me it was because you hadn’t been eating.”

“I… wasn’t taking as good care of myself as I should’ve been.”

Peter cocked his head to the side, his eyes unwavering from Tony’s.

“Why not?”

Tony shrugged, pulling himself further up into a sitting position.

“Dunno. I just get so caught up in my head sometimes I lose track of everything else.”

Peter nodded.

“I get that.”

“Kid, you’re sixteen.”

“True, but I also have an alter ego, Mr. Stark,” Peter reminded him softly, and it struck Tony in such a weird way how Peter was acting so mature in front of him. He never doubted the kid was wise beyond his years, even when his brown eyes were lighting up at the sight of the Lego sets in the toy store on 21st Street.

“Very true,” Tony hummed.

“Sometimes I get lost in my head, too.” Peter leaned back. “It’s hard for me to stay focused at times. Especially around the time of year when… well, when Uncle Ben died.”

Tony watched as Peter’s eyes grew sad at the memory.

“I can’t help but still feel like it was my fault. If I hadn’t let the guy run past me, Uncle Ben might never have had to try and stop him. And sometimes it hurts more than usual. Especially when I have a hard day on patrol or I have to deal with Flash during school.”

“You’re a strong kid, Peter,” Tony remarked.

“That’s what everyone tells me. But sometimes… I don’t feel so strong. And it makes it harder for me to sleep at night, or remember to take care of myself. Because, well, I guess sometimes, I feel like if I can’t be strong, why do I deserve to try?” Peter looked up at Tony. “Is that how it feels for you, too?”

“Actually, that’s… pretty accurate, yeah.” Tony raised his eyebrows. “You go through a lot more than you like to make us all think, kid.”

“We all do, Mr. Stark. Maybe that’s why Steve got so mad at you. He just didn’t want you to feel like you had to hide your hurt.”

“You might just be right.”

Peter nodded.

“And if you need help eating more, you should ask Wanda. She told me about all kinds of different foods she used to eat when she lived in Sokovia, and they sounded amazing! She said she’d invite me over for dinner one day and make paprikash. I’m sure she’d love to make some for you, too.”

Tony smiled.

“That sounds like a great idea, Pete. I don't know where I’d be if I didn’t have you to help keep my head on straight.”

Peter looked down at his feet.

“You help me a lot, too, Mr. Stark. It’s nice having someone to… to be like my father again.”

Tony, though surprised by that statement, felt warmth spreading through his chest at Peter’s words.

“I’m really happy you think that, kiddo.”

“Yeah. Now get some sleep!” Peter commanded, standing up. “You need it!”

“Jeez, fine, mom.”

Peter grinned, walking through the doorway.

“And when you wake up, Steve and I are going to cook you the biggest feast in the world!” Peter proclaimed, stretching out his hands to show Tony just how big this feast was going to be. Tony smiled, because, even though Peter was a kid who had been through hell and back and was still fighting every day, he was just a happy kid at heart and he wanted to do his best for people, no matter what.

“Oh, but I’ll be sharing it with you, I hope.”

Peter nodded.

“Duh. Steve cooks great food, too.”

“He sure does, bud.”

“Bye, Mr. Stark! I hope you sleep well.”

Peter left the room, leaving Tony to doze off. For the first time in a while, he actually felt like he could sleep comfortably. And when he woke up, he knew there’d still be people there to help him keep his feet on the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um ARE YOU GUYS WATCHING WANDAVISION CUZ LIKE- WOAH
> 
> And as always thanks for reading <3


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Maybe I'm just not fit to be a hero. Maybe I'm not fit enough to save anyone. I couldn't save my own uncle! There's no reason for you to put your trust in me not screwing up anything else." He took a deep breath. "So I quit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 27: "I should've never given you a chance"
> 
> written by me :)

_This didn't go how it was supposed to._

Peter was beginning to get fed up with the unfortunate turn of events that had not only left him stranded a few miles outside of a Hydra base, but also resulted in his own suit malfunctioning on him and going completely dark. He was now stumbling through snowy woodland, shivering in nothing but a spandex suit, clutching his mask in his hand.

"I guess it could be worse," he muttered to himself, nearly faceplanting over a tree stump a second later. "At least I'm not being shot at."

_Too soon, Peter. Too soon._

He sensed the presence of people before he heard them, probably following his footprints in the snow.

"He went this way!"

"Well, let's kill the little shit before he gets any further."

Sometimes, having enhanced hearing was nothing but a hassle. Peter broke out into a run, trying his best to dodge rocks and branches, blood dotting the ground in small spatters where he went. This was never going to work.

"I think I see him!"

_Curse my decision to wear a bright red and blue costume. I look like a highlighter._

Thinking fast, Peter jumped for the nearest tree and began to climb. The bare branches wouldn't do much to hide him, but, if he got high enough, maybe the soldiers running below wouldn't bother to look up and notice him.

Gunshots sounded out below him and he flinched, clinging to the trunk of the tree. There was still blood running in a steady stream down his leg, originating from the bullet wound in his thigh.

All in all, Peter Parker was _not_ having an ideal day.

He probably should have listened to Tony when he said Peter should _not_ be coming on on this mission, but he found himself on the quinjet anyways.

It wouldn't be the first time he'd disobeyed direct orders from Tony.

When the power went out around the base and the chaos started, Peter found himself separated from the rest of the group, stumbling through the hallways and trying to make sense of his surroundings, the flashing red lights making his eyes hurt. Another thing Tony had specifically told him to do was stay beside someone at all times, but of course Peter felt obligated to go exploring on his own. He could hear Clint's voice in his ear but it was going faint, the signal being interrupted by something else. Even worse, he had run out of web fluid.

Tony always told him he should bring extra web fluid.

When the shooting started and Peter found himself bursting back into the light, the first thing he noticed was the telltale shimmering of a cloaking mechanism rising into the air. The cloaking mechanism on _their_ quinjet. Peter tried to run and yell, but he rolled over and fell on his back when a pain ripped through his leg. By the time he stood up, the jet was gone.

_That one was definitely on me._

So Peter ran. He ran until his feet screamed for him to stop. He had nothing to stop the bleeding in his leg, and he was scared he'd get taken down. Now, he was clinging to the trunk of a tree somewhere in the woods in the middle of Canada, thirty feet above the Hydra soldiers on the ground.

"The tracks just stop here."

"He must've gone up."

They aimed their guns upward and Peter froze, holding his breath. There was nowhere else for him to go. Closing his eyes, he waited, hoping against hope that the branches below him were enough to conceal his body.

"There!"

A bullet whizzed right past Peter's ear and he flinched, falling down a few branches. 

"Get him!"

Peter jumped, ignoring the pain in his leg and reaching out for the next tree, missing the main trunk by a couple feet and instead crashing through the branches, his whole body getting scratched up by the roughness of the twigs and thorns. Peter landed on the ground on his back, the wind rushing out of him. He lay on the ground for a second, struggling to breathe as the soldiers advanced.

Two more gunshots, one of which embedded itself in Peter's shoulder. He let out a pained yelp, putting his hand to his shoulder and struggling to sit up.

_At least they have bad aim,_ he thought, exhaling sharply. The snow was turning red around him, and Peter's fingers felt numb.

Suddenly, the sound of machine gunfire rang out, bullets spattering the snow and causing the soldiers to scatter. The _spat spat spat_ of the bullets came at an alarming rate and Peter ducked down, covering his head with his hands as the soldiers were either shot down or forced to abandon their mission. When the noise ended, Peter could hear the rumbling of an engine.

"Peter Benjamin Parker!"

_Shit._

The voice came from a speaker in the quinjet, which decloaked itself a second later and came to hover in the clearing near him. The door folded open and Tony stood just inside, his arms folded and an unreadable expression on his face. Peter lifted his head up as Tony walked out to him.

"Um, is it too late to say I didn't make it on the jet?"

Grabbing Peter by his good arm, Tony lifted him up and half-dragged him inside the jet.

"Nat, mind making sure the kid doesn't die before I get a chance to kill him myself?"

Natasha nodded awkwardly, standing up and reaching for Peter. She helped him lean against the table in the middle of the jet and began pulling supplies out of a medkit. Tony stood and stared. Sam, Clint, Steve, and Wanda sat behind him, looking nervous.

"Tony, don't give him too much shit. I'm the one who gave the call to leave without knowing he had never made it on," Steve began, but Tony lifted his hand.

"That isn't what I'm pissed about, Rogers."

"Mr. Stark, I- Ah! Shit!" Peter flinched backwards as Nat used tweezers to pull out the bullet lodged in Peter's shoulder.

"Language!" Everyone on the jet called out unanimously.

"You've been a handful today, kid," Tony began. "Not only did you disobey me when I told you not to come, you also refused to accept my compromise to stay with the team at all times. You put us all in danger coming back here." He looked worried, but there was real anger in his eyes. "I can't _believe_ I was stupid enough to let a fifteen year old try and take on a responsibility like this."

"Tony," Clint cut in. "He just wanted to help."

"Oh, is _that_ what you were trying to do when you disappeared from all of us to try and chase down _one_ person you felt such a need to take down?" Tony shook his head, not bothering to face Clint. "We can't all keep making excuses for you!"

"He's still learning, Tony," Wanda said quietly. "He's still learning about how hard it is. This job."

"Oh, I see. Suddenly you all have to talk _for_ him. Why don't you let him talk for himself? What do you have to say for yourself, Pete?"

Peter winced as Nat silently pulled the bullet out of his leg and began stitching up his wound, but he managed not to cry out at that one.

"I- I just wanted to prove myself to you. I know that's not an excuse but… I just got carried away thinking about how everyone here treats me like a child all the time. I wanted to be like you."

"And I wanted you to be better." Tony shook his head. "I shouldn't have done this."

"Done what, Tony?" Steve said, his blue eyes unwavering.

"I should never have given him the chance to be an Avenger. I should never have given him the resources or the training for it. He isn't _ready_ . He's just a _kid._ "

Peter looked down, chewing on his bottom lip. Nat paused in bandaging his leg to look at Tony.

"I was a kid, too," she said softly.

"So was I," Steve added.

"That's different. You were forced into this. He made a choice."

"Stop talking about me like I'm not sitting right here!" Peter cried suddenly. "I know I screw up. A lot. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry I can't be good enough. I didn't mean to put you guys in danger and I hate that I did, I just wanted to be like you. I wanted to be like all of you."

"You don't get to make the decisions here, kid."

"Stop calling me a _kid_!"

Tony raised his eyebrows.

"Then what are you?! What the hell are you, Peter, if not an irresponsible teenager destined to screw up so badly one day you end up getting yourself _killed_?!"

Everyone fell silent as the words left Tony's mouth, and he instantly wished he could put them back in.

"Are you kidding me, Tony?" Nat said angrily, slamming the meditation closed so hard Peter jumped. "You're treating him like he's helpless. Peter's done more to help us than most people. And he's seen more shit than you could ever understand, yet he's still _here,_ fighting for what's right. You should be grateful for that, but you're stuck in your own goddamn ego to see what's right in front of you."

"I hate to say it, Stark, but she's right," Clint said slowly. "We all make mistakes on the job. I mean, come on. You're the one who designed and built a psychopathic robot that wanted to end all of human existence!"

"Let's not bring up the past to try and avoid the present," Steve warned, shooting a glance at Wanda, whose eyes had turned somber.

"Stop it! Everyone just _stop_!"

Peter stood up on shaky legs, leaning on the table.

"This was my fault. I take full responsibility and maybe Tony's right. Maybe I'm just not fit to be a hero. Maybe I'm not fit enough to save anyone. I couldn't save my own _uncle!_ There's no reason for you to put your trust in me not screwing up anything else." He took a deep breath. "So I quit."

"You _what_?" Sam said, his eyes widening.

"Peter, I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. Please don't-"

"You said it, so that means you were thinking it, too." Peter nodded. "It's for the best, anyways. I'll see myself out when I land."

And he did, despite Nat telling him he needed to go to the medbay and Steve trying to convince him to stay. Peter walked into the compound to grab his stuff, which was only enough to stuff into his backpack.

"Peter, don't do this. Please." Clint tried to stop him as he reached the hallway. "We need you here."

Peter scoffed.

"For what? Being a punching bag at training sessions?"

Clint smiled softly.

"You know that's Sam's job. We need you here because you're an asset to the team. And not only that, you're probably the only thing keeping us together."

"All the more reason why you deserve better."

"What? No. That's- that's not what I mean. Come here."

Clint pulled Peter to the front of a conference room. Inside it, they could both hear Tony and Steve arguing in muffled, angry voices.

"Those two can't survive being in the same _room_ as each other for more than a little while. They're lucky they don't tear each other apart. They're lucky we _all_ don't fall apart. But you wanna know why we don't?" Clint grinned. "We all have one reason to stick together, and that's you. Trust me when I say we're all in agreement that you're the best person to have around. You come up with great ideas for new tech, you're an incredibly skilled person, and you're just generally fun to be around. And you're so happy all the time. Most of us don't have much to be happy for. But when you're around, it's like everyone feels a little more relaxed."

"Gross. When did you become so cheesy and sentimental?"

"You better enjoy it while it lasts." Clint shrugged.

"Not everyone likes me here," Peter pointed out. "Bucky told me he thought I was annoying."

Clint rolled his eyes.

"Oh, please. Bucky's like that to everyone. I heard him gushing to Steve about how nice you were to him the other day."

"But what about when I screw things up?"

"I'll admit, you do need to work on those listening skills a little bit," Clint said. "And that's coming from a guy who uses hearing aids. But you've got the wits and the smarts to be out in the field. I might even say you're better than I am, kid- er- well-"

"It's okay. Old people call everyone 'kid'."

" _Excuse_ me?! You did _not_ just call me old." Clint pushed Peter, luckily nudging his good shoulder. "I've still got many years of healthy life on my bones."

"Uh-huh."

"Kids these days." Clint grumbled, feigning annoyance. Both of them fell silent, though, when Steve and Tony walked out of the room, both of the still looking tense. Peter swore he could see the steam coming out of Steve's ears.

"What are you two doing out here?" He asked them.

"I was just showing Pete how much of a disaster you two were."

"And that was necessary… why?"

"Because he needs to know how much he means to you guys. You let him believe he was a screwup. You let him think he didn't do anything but make mistakes."

"I didn't-" Steve started, but Tony cut him off.

"No, he's right. Peter, can I talk to you for a second?"

Clint gave Peter a reassuring glance and he nodded hesitantly. Tony opened the door to the room, leaving Steve and Clint to walk down the hallway, bickering.

"So, what did the bird-brain tell you?"

Peter hung a few feet away from Tony, leaning against the wall.

"Sit down, Peter. You look exhausted."

Peter sat and opened his mouth.

"He just told me that I wasn't as unnecessary as I liked to think."

"Well, he's right."

"Is he?"

Peter was staring up at Tony with a genuine questioning in his eyes, and the older man kicked himself for the way he talked to Peter earlier.

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier. I was worried and scared, and I know that's no excuse, but I freaked out. I thought I was going to lose you. And it would've been on me, really."

"No, it wouldn't've. I was the one who didn't bother to listen to you. I'm just a kid, remember? A kid who disobeys rules and gets himself into trouble."

"You're not just a kid. You're the bravest, most badass, smartest kid I've ever met." Tony leaned against the table Peter was sitting at, crossing his arms. "I just felt a need to coddle you. And that was wrong of me."

"Well, it was wrong of me not to listen."

"Okay, you _are_ right there." Tony nodded. "And I'm glad you know that. It means you're mature. You're not quite ready to take on the heavy stuff quite yet, but it doesn't mean you're worthless. We all had to train and learn and grow for a _very_ long time before we got to this level. Nobody just jumps into it."

"I… I know. I get that now."

"But it doesn't mean I don't value you. We all love you, Peter. I mean that with everything in me. We want to give you a home here."

"You- you really mean that, Mr. Stark?"

"I do, bud." Tony leaned back, shooting Peter a smile. "Just take our advice every once in a while, okay? We want you to be the best person you can be. The best _Avenger_ you can be."

Peter nodded eagerly.

"I will."

"So, you're not thinking about quitting anymore?" Tony asked, raising his eyebrow.

"No," Peter replied, smiling. "No, I don't think I am."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank u for reading! <3


	28. I'm going home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They found each other’s gaze again, hopelessness creeping into their hearts. 
> 
> “Whatever it takes.”
> 
> “Whatever it takes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 28: "you have to let me go"
> 
> a cute little alternate ending to endgame
> 
> written by M
> 
> P.S. read the end note!!

“See ya in a minute.”

In the next second, the sound of glass and mechanics shifting fills the room. The helmet materializes over Natasha’s head and her body tenses. Then they’re sucked in, and her gut twists as bright, blinding colors pass her in a blur. It feels like she’s getting swept forward by an impossibly strong force, sending her careening through time and space. A flash of light, then… hard ground. Her legs almost give out at the impact, her stomach still churning, but they made it.

They time traveled.

Clint looks over at her, “You better not hurl.”

She punches his shoulder.

Rhodey and Nebula stand beside them, tilting slightly at the sudden change. Nebula looks the least likely to pass out, analyzing their surroundings carefully. 

“You know how to get that thing ready?” Rhodey points at the miniature spaceship in Clint’s palm.

Clint rummages through his pockets before pulling out some sort of chip, “Scott says we throw this at it.”

He waves at the rest of them, “You might want to stand back.”

They take a few steps away from him, watching as he throws the mini figure into the air and the small disc directly at it. 

“Oh, wait- doesn’t that—”

Rhodey’s cut off by the sudden expansion of the spaceship. 

They’re close, too close. 

“Move!” Nat shouts as it begins to descend on them. 

They sprint as quickly as they can, the ship dropping to the ground. Dust explodes in the impact and the force of the blow knocks them down. 

“Maybe- huff- a little warning next time.” Nat coughs. 

Clint brushes off dirt on his suit, “I told you to step back.”

“Oh if I could only—” 

She begins to stomp towards him but Rhodey stops her. 

“Hey hey, calm down there. We have a world to save, remember?"

“And according to my calculations, we need to hurry if we want to catch him.” Nebula interrupts. 

She references Peter Quill, who is currently making his way unknowingly to the space stone in this timeline. 

Natasha pulls Rhodey in for a hug, “Be careful.”

“Oh, getting teary-eyed on me, Romanoff.”

“Shut up.”

She pushes him away but with a smile. 

Rhodey and Nebula turn their backs and walk on this strange planet to retrieve the space stone before Starlord. 

“Wow, you were practically sobbing.” Clint teases. 

“Get in the stupid ship. Let’s hope you didn’t break anything.”

…

Natasha gripped the arms of her seat. The spaceship flew on autopilot so all that was left of them was to not fall out. 

They zoomed out of the atmosphere, flashes of bright colors streaked past them. 

“We’re a long way from Budapest.”

Nat chuckles, her body relaxing. 

Minutes? Hours? She has no idea how long they were flying until they reached Vormir. The planet loomed before them, swirling darkness and menacing land. 

Clint gasps at the sight, “Under much different circumstances, this would be totally awesome.”

…

Wind blasts flakes of snow into their faces as they labor up the mountain. 

“Damn that raccoon.” Nat mutters. 

“Technically, he’s not a raccoon.”

“Full of sass today, Barton?”

“The world is ending, Romanoff. Don’t know how many days we have left.”

They quiet at the suddenly somber note, the weight of the universe lay heavy on their shoulders. 

“Welcome.”

They’re instantly on their feet, weapons out. 

A shadowy being floats towards them, “Natasha, daughter of Ivan. Clint, son of Edith.”

They slowly approach the hooded figure, not letting their weapons down an inch. 

“Who are you?”

Her voice held a slight tremor, only one Clint could detect.

“Consider me a guide. To you, and to all who seek the soul stone.”

“Oh good, then you tell us where it is and we’ll be on our way.” Her voice was steady once again, staring down the mysterious creature, the “guide”. 

It steps closer, light finally crosses its twisted face. Red, bright red head, the nose no longer there, and indented cheeks. It might have once resembled a person, but now it was only a monster. 

“If only it were that easy.”

He turns, leading them through the pass to a treacherous cliff. Black mist billows off his robes as he comes to stop at the edge. 

“What you seek lies in front of you.”

Natasha’s stomach churns at the sheer drop, knowing nothing good can happen next. 

“As does what you fear."

A deathly pause, only the sound of wind interrupting the silence. 

“In order to take the stone, you must lose that which you love.”

Panic laced Nat’s veins. 

_ No.  _

“An everlasting exchange.”

_ No.  _

“A soul for a soul.”

Nat and Clint exchanged eye contact, both their faces calm but underneath, anything but. 

“Maybe he’s making this shit up.” Clint stepped away from the ledge. 

“No.”

He looks back at her, “What? Cause he knew your daddy’s name?”

“I didn’t.” It was only barely a whisper. 

She thought, shaking her head, “Thanos came here, and left with the stone, without his daughter.”

She looked at Clint, who just stared off, “It’s not a coincidence.”

They found each other’s gaze again, hopelessness creeping into their hearts. 

“Whatever it takes.”

“Whatever it takes.”

Clint looked off the cliff again, “Then we know what’s gonna happen next.”

“I guess we do.”

Nat takes his hand squeezing it, he raises an eyebrow, “I don’t think we’re thinking the same thing here, Natasha.”

“For the last five years I’ve been trying to do one thing, get to right here. This is what it’s all been about, bringing everyone back.”

He leans back, “Don’t get all decent on me.”

“You think I want to do it? I’m trying to save your life, you idiot.”

“You shouldn’t.”

Sadness filled his eyes, remembering the last five years, what he had become, “You know what I’ve done.”

“I don’t judge someone on their worst mistakes.”

“Maybe you should.”

“You didn’t.”

That shut his mouth, the hurt still lingering. 

“You’re a pain in my ass.”

Nat smiled. 

They leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together, dreading the end, what’s about to happen. 

He pulls back, “Fine, you win.”

The moment was perfect, she was ready. 

All of a sudden her feet were swept out from under her. 

Clint knocked her down, a fist to her chest, “Tell my family I love them.”

She yanked his arm, flipping them around so she could stand up, pointing her Black Widow's bite at his stomach, “Tell them yourself.”

Nat shot one, it hit his chest, sending an electric current through his body. 

Turning, she began to run towards the cliff. 

A flash to her left sent her careening, landing hard on her belly, knocking the breath out of her lungs. 

She watched as her best friend stared then ran to the edge, a deadly fire in his eyes. 

_ No. No. No.  _

No, not him. He had his family, he had been her family. In her darkest time, he dragged her out. She needed one thing to go right, one person to live. 

At the very last second, he jumped but Nat came and grabbed his torso. They both plummeted for a moment before she attached a grapple to his belt and shot it to the top of the ledge. They halted in midair and for a second, she was free falling. Then his arm wrapped around her wrist. 

“Damn you.”

He tried to reach his other hand to hers but couldn’t reach, “God, no, Romanoff.”

A calm settled deep in her core, “You have to let me go.”

“No, please no.”

The pain in those words was enough to make her know that this was worth it, she was ready. 

“It’s okay.”

“Please.” It was a strangled cry, but he saw in her eyes, saw what would happen next. 

She planted her feet against the stone and jumped. 

For a moment, everything was in slow motion. The wind tugged at strands of her braid, tears soaked the corners of her eyes, but she smiled.

She did it. Everything was going to be okay. 

...

Natasha opened her eyes. It was quiet, eerily quiet. 

“Clint.”

She muttered weakly. 

The wind whipped her hair and the cold sent a shutter down her spine. She was far below that cliff, she could just barely see the edge above. 

“Clint.”

The last thing she had seen was his horrified face as she plunged to the unforgiving ground. It came rushing back. 

The stone. A sacrifice. Saving the world.

Nat felt like she might pass out, her head throbbed painfully, the world tilting in her vision. She reached a tentative hand to her temple and pulled it back to find blood coating her fingers. 

“What the hell?”

“You died.”

She started, pain ripping through her body, she could barely keep in the scream that threatened her lips. 

The misty, cloaked guide stepped towards her, his face holding no emotion. 

“What?”

“You fell and you died.” He stated it like a fact, like she was supposed to be dead. 

_ Am I dead? _

_ No, there’s too much pain. _

_ Maybe this is how it will always be.  _

_ No, I’m  _ supposed  _ to be dead, but I’m not. _

“How-” she has to swallow, dehydration making her tongue leaden, “how am I alive?”

A puzzled look briefly passes over his face, “Your heart stopped, you didn’t have any brain function. Then, you woke up.”

Nat puts her bloodied hand over her chest, feeling the soft rhythm of her heartbeat. 

“I died and came back.”

This has happened before, medical mysteries, people on their deathbed suddenly healed. And in a universe of infinity stones and talking raccoons, that didn’t seem impossible. 

“I need,” she tried to push herself up, “I need to get home.”

Pain shot through her torso, making her collapse onto her back. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

She grunted, “Thanks for the heads up.”

He grew quiet, staring blankly at her. 

“What?” She breathed through a clenched jaw, sparks of stabbing pain at the slightest movement. 

“Someone’s here.”

His flowy figure turned and disappeared into the night. 

Nat blew out a sharp breath, “Where the fuck did he go?”

The ache in her body began to dull her senses. The corners of her vision became spotty then, a figure at the top of that cliff, looking down at her broken body. 

Then nothing. 

…

“Natasha.”

_ No, let me be.  _

“Natasha!”

_ Wait, who is that? _

“Wake up, Romanoff.”

Nat’s eyes cracked open. 

Steve stood above her, his time traveling suit, and concerned gaze meeting hers. 

“Steve?”

Her throat felt like it had been ripped to shreds. 

“Dear god, you look like shit.”

A hoarse laugh escaped her lips. 

“What’s happening? Why are you here? How are you here? Am I dead?”

Steve brushed hair out of her face, “I came back to put away the stones in all the correct places and times. When I showed up, Red Skull had you laying here, covered in blood, and I’m pretty sure half the bones in your body are broken. Yet, you are not dead.”

It took her a moment to put together his words, “Red Skull?”

He motioned towards the dark, flowy figure. 

“You know him?”

“That’s a long story.”

She gulped, trying to comprehend what had happened. 

“What do we do know?”

Steve smiled, “I'll take you home. Clint will be happy to see you.”

Clint. Home. 

Hope flickered in her chest, she had a home, she had a family. 

“I’m going home.”

For the first time in her entire life, laying there with a shattered body, having died once today, she felt whole. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was so much fun you guys!! I will definitely be back on this for whumptober later this year but thank you to everyone who read these!! You can go check out my other projects which I will finally get back to working on, if you like.
> 
> Hope you all are doing amazing!! <3


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